


My Frozen Heart

by HugeWingspans



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: ACoTaR prequel, F/M, I swear these two are the slowburniest slowburn to ever slowburn, It will be a) multichapter and b) way longer than it has any business being, Might possibly deal with mature themes later on, Rated T for language and violence later on, Rating May Change, The Winter Court (ACoTaR), This is Viviallias through and through
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-02
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-06-01 11:22:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 49,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15142013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HugeWingspans/pseuds/HugeWingspans
Summary: Kallias and Viviane are 13 when they first meet in a secluded clearing outside the Winter Palace. What starts out as a tentative offering of friendship grows into undying devotion as Kallias tries to navigate the dangers of court and Viviane tries to get her stubborn father to see her value as a soldier. Kallias soon finds that the person he cares for most, the female who he has loved since he was only a child, is his ultimate weakness - and Viviane’s faith in their friendship is tested as Kallias pushes her away, again and again.Power schemes and plotting royals stand in their way as the court grows more and more perilous - and on the horizon, a shadow is gathering its might to ravage all of Prythian and leave no good or living thing untouched.Just as Kallias has gone out of his way to protect Viviane all his life, so Viviane must protect the people of Winter when the time comes.





	1. 353 Years Before the Mountain

**Author's Note:**

> Basically I have been working on this for ages and then I kind of promised to upload it so here we are.  
> Has not been proofread by anyone except me, if you're interested in beta reading this please contact me!

_Kallias_

After falling flat for the forty-seventh time that he tries—and fails—to skate across the frozen pond, Kallias reaches the conclusion that snow is better than ice.

He slowly crawls across the ice towards the tree that he has supported himself with the last forty seven times he has stood up, nearly tripping over its roots despite knowing exactly where they are.

His hands and knees hurt a little from all the falling, or rather from the stupid ice under his feet. At least with snow you get a soft landing.

Then again, if you had _neither_ you wouldn't have to make that kind of choice at all.

The small groove in the woods is empty except for him. There is absolute silence, not even the clamor of the city's forges can be heard, even though its towers are still visible above the snow covered branches surrounding him. There's nothing to distract him—so why can't he glide across the pond like his cousins do? Why hasn't he managed more than ten seconds without falling flat?

 _It really shouldn't be that hard. It's probably not even about my skills_ , Kallias is determined. _Must be the ice. The ice is probably uneven. In fact, I think I felt a bump in the ice just before I fell last time._

Yeah, that must be it.

Squaring his jaw, eyes darting across the ice in search of those treacherous bumps that he keeps falling over, Kallias pushes from the tree he has all but held onto for dear life.

He keeps his balance for about five seconds.

Lying flat on the ice he tries to find the strength or the will to crawl back. But what is the point? He isn't getting anywhere. Besides, the tears forming in his eyes make it impossible to see anything.

It's not that he needs to know how to skate—that on its own is not what brings tears to his eyes. Skating is not what is important here.

Except it kind of is. He is a member of the Winter Court's Royal Family, not being able to skate is _ridiculous_. It will be just another thing his cousins— _cousins he didn't even know he had until three months ago, why should he care what they think? But he does, he does_ —will use to taunt him. And with the Winter Solstice coming up he will be expected to participate in the week long festivities. Festivities he didn't know until this morning would be held on _ice_ …

"What are you doing?"

The sudden question sends panic through Kallias's limbs, jolting him into a sitting position. He tries to hide his mortification at this girl finding him here, laying on the ground like an idiot and crying—he has seen her before, he realizes. She is the girl he has seen running around the City of Ice, the girl he saw sparring out in the frozen gardens this morning. Kallias is fairly certain that she is the daughter of one of the higher ranking Lieutenants in the Frozen Army, Ranfiel.

Kallias quickly rubs away the tears staining his cheeks, as if doing so will prevent her from seeing them.

"Nothing. I was just looking at the sky," He mumbles, a little bit angrily.

"Are you sure?" As if to annoy him she glides in a perfect arc across the pond towards him on her own skates, stopping abruptly but keeping her balance barely a foot away from him. "Because I think I just watched you fall over for the tenth time in a row."

He gives her a glare, or he tries to, but it's hard to do with tears in his eyes and shame burning his face and her standing over him this way, her eyes boring into him.

But when he is able to look her in the eye he doesn't find them mocking, not the way he expected. He does, however, find them _blue_. And she seems to be watching him with curiosity.

"How come you can't skate?" She asks and cocks her head to the side. The movement causes her hair to fall in her face and she pushes it away impatiently. "Don't they teach you that at the Spring Court?"

"I can skate!" Kallias is mortified to realize how indignant his answer is, how defensive. Exactly something a person who can't skate would say.

"No, I don't think so." She says with a skeptical look.

"Can too!" He looks away, too embarrassed to meet her eyes anymore.

"All right then. But why are you having difficulty skating now?" She asks.

"None of your business" He grits out.

"Why won't you tell me?" She insists.

"I said it's none of your business" He is nearly shouting now, with anger, and shame.

"Fine, I won't ask." She throws her hands in the air, giving up.

"Good," He bites back.

"Great," She retorts.

There is a short pause, both of them impossibly irritated with the other, it would seem. Or at least, Kallias is irritated. And embarrassed. And a little bit fascinated if he is being honest, but that is the least of his concerns when she seems determined to uncover his most humiliating secret—and didn't his mother warn him about that, the games this court played? No doubt she was here just to see him humiliated, so that she could spread the word and undermine him…

"I could help you, you know." She says suddenly.

Kallias looks at her, trying to make sure he has heard her right.

"What?" He asks.

"Skate. I could help you skate." She clarifies, looking rather embarrassed and as if she regrets making the offer but is too proud to back down now.

"I don't need your help" He just says—even though it's a lie and the truth is he doesn't _want_ to need her help, especially since she seems to regret even offering.

"Are you sure?" She asks.

"Yes" He snaps at her.

"All right, I was just offering to help. There's no need for you to be so pissy about it." She glares at him as she says it.

"I'm not being pissy!" Kallias answers her, trying to keep his voice calm, failing terribly at doing so.

"You are too!" Kallias feels a little better about shouting, given how she has started shouting as well.

"Am not!"

She opens her mouth but then seems to catch herself—she closes her eyes and breathes out, then laughs a little bit—if Kallias wasn't so angry at her he would marvel at the way she sounds.

"You know, just arguing about whether or not you are being pissy is pissy on its own," She points out.

"Well…" He doesn't know what to say to that, except… "in that case if I'm being pissy then so are you!"

She laughs again.

"Well, I guess" She smiles at him and he is surprised to find that… she's not making fun of him. In fact, if his mother hadn't already warned him about this court, he might think she was being nice to him.

There is a long silence as he really considers the girl. She's probably around his age, maybe a year older than him. Her hair is as white as that of everyone else in this court, her eyebrows and eyelashes as well. Her eyes are incredibly blue, the color cold and distant—and yet he can tell, from the way she holds herself and the way she throws his words right back in his face, that there is a fire within her that burns as intensely as that of Autumn.

He finds himself a little bit intrigued by this contradiction.

She is the one who breaks the silence. "But really, I mean it. I can help you skate if you want to learn how to."

Kallias keeps his eyes on the girl, sees the sincerity in her blue eyes. And maybe it's because she's offered him twice, or maybe it's because she didn't laugh at him when she found out he couldn't skate, or maybe it's the way the light hits her snow white hair and makes it shine like a halo—he makes his decision.

"Fine. But if you tell anyone about any of this…"

"I won't. Promise." And he believes her. She smiles at him he finds that he smiles back.

"I'm Viviane," She tells him.

***

_Viviane_

"And it _never_ snows there?" Viviane asks, probably for the fourth time in as many hours but she needs to hear it again, needs to be sure about the existence of such a bizarre place.

"Yes, and it's never too cold there. It's always just right between hot and cold, and everything is full of flowers. And colors." He looks at her and she is once again fascinated by this strange boy.

Of course she knows that he grew up in the Spring Court. Everyone knows; from that day three months ago when one of the High Lord's cousins claimed him as his child he has been the source of court gossip—Gidrea claimed that the woman who brought him wasn't his mother, but rather his mother had been a lesser faerie; Arvie was convinced he was in fact the High Lord's son that had somehow been switched at birth with a stillborn child; Likil swore up and down that he was an expertly trained impostor from the Autumn Court sent to spy on them all.

That last one, at least, is nonsense—anyone who looks at Kallias knows that he is a child of Winter, through and through. His hair is the color of ice, his eyes are pale blue and his skin is as white as chalk. And even though he might carry a little bit of Spring in his heart Viviane can tell that his soul belongs here, out on the frozen lands of the Winter Court.

"It must have been strange for you," she muses, leaning back against the tree, feeling its bark dig into her back despite her thick furs, "coming here for the first time. I bet you'd never even seen aurora borealis before you got here." She smiles at him as she says it and, much to her delight, he returns her smile.

"No, I hadn't" he confesses. "The first time I was out after dark and saw them light up the sky I thought they were spirits of some sort. Or demons." He says to her.

"Maybe they are. No one really knows for sure." She shrugs as she says it.

He looks up at that, towards the darkened sky and the stars twinkling in the darkness—towards the great sweeps of green and yellow slowly winding their way across the heavens.

She looks up as well, tracing the patterns in the sky with her eyes the way she used to do with her sister when she was younger. _Some say the future is written in light_ , Luana used to say. _There's no telling what you might find there_.

"Thank you," he says suddenly, surprising her as he looks her in the eye. "For helping me." He nods his head towards their discarded skates, lying in the snow next to them—even in the darkness she can see the slight blush coloring his cheeks.

"It was no problem. You're a fast learner. Just loosening up helped a ton." She smiles as she says it, bumping her shoulder against his.

"Still. Thanks" He mumbles into his fur coat before returning his gaze to the sky.

They sit in silence for a while.

"Can I ask you something?" Viviane almost whispers and looks at him.

He looks at her warily, as if he is remembering her pestering questions from before.

"I can't promise I'll answer" He says.

"Ok then. I was just wondering…" Viviane finds herself hesitating, wondering if the question will be well received, wondering if he perhaps doesn't want to talk to anyone about this, pushing forward with her question anyway, "How come you didn't stay in the Spring Court? You were there for thirteen years with your mother. Why did she suddenly decide to bring you here to your father?"

There's a long silence, and when Viviane looks at Kallias she sees him staring at the ground, his hands nervously scraping up handfuls of snow and then dropping them again. She is about to tell him to forget she even asked, since he doesn't seem inclined to answer, when…

"She didn't really want to bring me here." He whispers. He looks into her eyes for a brief moment before quickly averting his eyes back down to the ground "But my father heard that the servant girl he once knew now had a pale-skinned, white-haired child that was showing the signs of great Winter powers. She didn't have a choice in the matter, she was just a servant girl in the Spring Court and he's a member of the Royal Family here."

There is a sadness in his voice, a kind of helplessness that nearly breaks Viviane's heart as she tries to make him meet her eyes again. She knew he didn't fit in, that much is obvious, but the more she speaks to him the more certain she becomes that he really does belong in this Court, amongst these frozen ponds and snowed over pines. The fact that he might not wish to be here makes her sad for some reason she cannot explain.

And she's angry, too. At his father, mostly, who took one look at this boy and judged his worth not by who he was but by the power in his blood—but also at this court, with its cold customs and icy manners, that has done its best to make him feel unwelcome.

"I'm sorry that it has been like that for you," she says quietly. "But it will get better. Easier. Right now, you have something you didn't have this morning," she smiles at him as she says the words.

"The ability to skate?" He asks.

Viviane lets out a laugh.

"Yes, that. But I just meant that now you have a friend." She bumps his shoulder again when she says it. He looks at her questioningly.

"So… you want to be my friend?" He seems hesitant to even ask the question, as if no one has wanted that before.

And for a moment it feels as if Viviane can see things the way he does, from his eyes—as if a connection has opened between them and she has caught a glimpse of what goes on in his head.

His whole life he has been an outsider—a child of Winter raised in Spring, with his looks and powers marking him as other, as different. And now that he has finally found his way here, to where he ought to belong, he finds the court hostile and its inhabitants even more so.

_If the rest of him won't get to know him then I will._

"I _am_ your friend, Kallias. And you're just going to have to deal with that." She answers him.

He meets her eyes and smiles again, and something about his happiness makes Viviane's heart soar.

***

_Kallias_

Kallias is exhausted when he finally closes the door to his and his mother's room. He has just about decided that taking off his coat is not worth the effort and that he should just crawl into bed when a candle is lit.

"Kallias? Where have you been so late?" His mother comes from behind the screen separating her bed from the cramped seating area. She has a candle in her hand, is wearing her nightdress and has her hair in a messy braid down her back. Kallias isn't fooled—he knows that his mother never sleeps with her hair still done and he knows she leaves the matches halfway across the room when she sleeps, but most of all he knows his mother couldn't have fallen asleep without knowing he was all right.

He just forgot.

"I'm sorry mother. I was practicing" He lifts the skates in his hand as if to prove it, "For the solstice." He clarifies.

His mother purses her lips, the look in her eyes suggesting she doesn't quite believe him. She's always seen through him like that.

She seems to decide to let it go for now.

"Did you make any progress?" She asks instead, sitting on the edge of the small chair she salvaged from their room back in Spring. It's something she does whenever she wants him to remain calm while she is, quite literally, on edge.

"I did" Kallias answers. She simply waits for him to continue. "I had help," he finally says, although for some reason it feels more like an admission of guilt.

And his mother seems to take it as such.

"Who helped you?" She asks, and even though she clearly tries to keep her tone calm there is an edge to her voice, the same edge Kallias heard in her voice when she explained to him why they had to move to the Winter Court.

"I didn't ask for help, if that's what you're worried about. And it wasn't one of the politicians, or my cousins. Or _him_."

"I would still like to know who, exactly, it was that was generous enough to help you" His mother's tone is clipped.

"It was a girl."

"Who is she?"

"She's… my friend."

"Kallias" His mother says in a warning tone.

"She's the daughter of some lieutenant. Ranfiel, I think." His mother is silent at that, staring at him—but Kallias knows, from the distant look in her eye, that her mind is sorting through all its information to place Ranfiel. "Her name is Viviane," Kallias says, in part to be helpful, but mostly because he just… likes saying her name.

Her brow furrows as she returns to the present.

"She's really nice. She even offered to continue teaching me." He goes on—the last thing he wants is for his mother to distrust Viviane. He doesn't know why but the thought of his mother disapproving of Viviane is devastating. Perhaps because Viviane is the only friend he's had in a long while.

His mother closes her eyes for a brief moment and runs her free hand over her face. Then she stands up and walks towards Kallias, setting her candle down on a table as she goes past it.

"Kallias." She cups his cheeks with her palms, looking into his eyes in that loving way she does when she's about to tell him something she knows he won't like.

"Kallias, do you remember what I said when we first came here?"

"That these people can't be trusted."

"Yes. Because they will take whatever chance they can to manipulate you. They will lie to you. They will try to earn you confidence. And they will," She is looking at him intently now, making sure he understands every word she says, "pretend to be your friends."

Kallias's gut twists with the thought. Even though his mother has made sure to hammer the thought into his head every chance she has gotten over the past three months, even though he has gotten used to it… the idea of Viviane betraying him…

"Has he tried to make any contact with you?" She asks quietly, no doubt already using her feeble magic to shield the room from any prying eyes and ears. They can't be too careful, living on his estate.

Kallias shakes his head subtly.

"He will try. I want you to be on your guard. Don't trust these people. And I mean that, Kallias. I know she may act like your friend, feel like your friend, but there are no friends in this court."

He can't stomach it. Because despite his mother's misgivings, he'd rather believe that there are good people in the Winter Court, and that Viviane is one of them.

***

_Viviane_

There's a light in her father's study when Viviane comes back home.

She almost sighs as she gently puts her skates down and removes her cloak, already near stifling within the heated walls of the city.

She creeps silently to the study, expecting to find her father asleep in his chair, his candle nearly burnt out, his papers and reports strewn across the desk.

She is right about the candle, at least.

He is deep in thought, reading a long document written in blue ink. As Viviane rounds the desk she can make out the words disturbance and Autumn, before her father turns the page.

"Father." She lays a hand gently on his shoulder, knowing how lost he often gets in his work. "You need to go to sleep" As she says the words she distantly hears the great clock strike twice.

Her father looks up at her, then back down at his papers, before rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger.

"This report makes absolutely no sense." He tells Viviane as he dumps the offending document down on his desk. "It speaks of a person causing turbulence at the border with Autumn, then it speaks of a creature, then a _thing_ , references an earlier disturbance at the same site—one that has never occurred if former reports are to be believed, mind you—says that everything has been resolved and then ends with some sort of plea for help." He curses as he picks the report back up, something about "damn new recruits who can't do anything right".

"If the report is such a mess it's not worth staying up late for. I guarantee you, it will not get easier to understand the more tired you are." Viviane picks up the report as she says it, opens a drawer in her father's desk and shoves the report in.

Her father sighs loudly.

"That's probably true. When did you get so wise?" He hugs her as he stands up, nearly picking her up as he does.

"Father…" Viviane complains and rolls her eyes.

He ignores it, just picks up his candle and keeps his arm around her in a fond gesture.

"Where have you been? Shouldn't you have been home by midnight, instead of letting your poor old father stay up so late?" He half teases.

"I was out skating. And I made a friend." Viviane says and smiles a little.

"A friend, huh? And did this friend have much choice or did you decide on your own?" He squeezes her shoulder slightly.

"Of course he had a choice, what sort of friendship would it be otherwise?" Viviane says, even though it was technically something she decided on her own, "Besides, he's new to the court. He could use some support." Viviane says.

Her father tenses a little.

Even with her limited training in magic, Viviane can feel the wards that settle around them, sense the sudden stillness in the air.

"This new person. It wouldn't just so happen to be that Spring Court kid that arrived three months back?" Her father asks quietly, an edge to his voice that she hasn't heard him use with her often. With the other lieutenants, sure. with stuck up court royalty, certainly. But not with her.

She doesn't like it.

"So what if it is?" She challenges, staring at her father, half surprised that she is this willing to defend Kallias so soon.

But if she doesn't, no one else will.

Her father doesn't break her stare.

"You know what his father is like, Viviane. You know I don't like the way…"

"Well then it's a good thing this isn't about what you like, isn't it? Besides, since when do you judge people by how their parents act?"

She sees her father flinch a little at that.

Her father fought in the war, only a hundred years before—along with Luana, and their mother.

Her father stood against his own father, as the older man spit in his son's face for defending what he called _those human worms_.

And her father faced his own father on the battlefield.

Only one of them made it out alive.

"He didn't have a choice in coming here, father," she pushes, "and he's really nice. It's like you always say, this court is a corrupting mess. If I can help him keep away from that then I want to."

Her father sighs and drops the wards—something Viviane can't quite feel with her magic but can tell from the muscles that relax in his shoulders.

"I suppose I can't tell you not to, you'll always find a way. Just… be on your guard, all right? I know, I know…" He starts as he sees the angry glint in Viviane's eyes "if you think he's worth helping, you're probably right. But try to bear in mind that there's only so much you can do." He pulls her in for a hug. "You can't always save everyone, you know."

The thought of Kallias being lost to this court, to the mind games and treachery of its inhabitants, has some unknown feeling lodging in Viviane's throat. She speaks around it none the less, her voice a little muffled against her father's chest.

"No, but I can save him."

 


	2. 353 Years Before the Mountain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, pleeease let me know if you want to beta read this!

_Kallias_

"Just remember…"

"Keep a low profile. I know, mother," Kallias and his mother speak in hushed tones, his mother's magic too depleted for stronger wards than the ones they're employing.

His mother simply checks his coat again, smoothing out any rumples in the simmering silver fabric. The coat was a gift left outside their door this morning, with a note commenting how lovely it would look on the first eve of the Solstice celebrations.

It nearly stopped his mother's heart with fright. Even now her hands shake as she tries to make sure he looks his best without thinking of where the coat came from.

_Who_ the coat came from.

"Keep conversations short. Don't say too much about yourself, try to ask questions and learn about the people here. But don't dig," The words last few words are sharp and she gives him a hard glare, "It will cause suspicion." She continues fussing over the fur lining his wrists.

He grabs her hands, cold despite the fire always blazing in their room, and holds them in his own.

"Mother, it's a party" he says gently.

"All the more reason to keep your guard up." She sighs, tightening her fingers on his. "These people enjoy playing games. They trick and betray each other for a chance at power. I don't want you to get tangled in all of this, no matter what _his_ plans for you might be." She looks at him for a long while, making sure he has understood what she says. Then she sighs again. "Promise me you will be careful." She says.

"Of course I will be," He gives her a reassuring smile. Her answering smile is not very convincing, but she pulls him in for a tight hug.

"I'm sorry I can't be there with you, my boy," She whispers before letting him go.

"I'll be all right. I promise." He picks up his skates on his way to the door, closing it behind him before his mother starts drilling him on caution again. He already knows how many cousins and Court members he will have watching his every move (1263, more or less), trying to gauge if he is a threat, if he is useful, if he is laughing stock. Most have already placed him in one of the two former categories, but that won't stop them from also placing him in the third.

Truth be told, Kallias isn't all that worried about the schemes of this court, nor the eyes that will be trained on him—the Spring Court bastard—judging his worth based on his social skills.

He is too excited to see Viviane.

They have met three more times out on the frozen pond and by the end of the last session (somewhere between _late_ and _very late_ last night) she even called him a 'decent skater'.

_"You're not exactly bad anymore, so that is an improvement," She joked once he finally managed to turn without toppling over._

_"I don't think 'Not exactly bad' is acceptable at the Solstice" He said, real nerves working their way through the light teasing that he and Viviane shared._

_"Oh, come now. you won't have to skate all evening, you can sit for the most part of it without it being impolite. You're a decent skater, you'll get through it," her soothing voice quenched his fear._

He leaves the small room he and his mother were given. It is a small room wedged in the back of the servant quarters of his father's estate, with one wall adjacent to the kitchens. But now there is no sound of pots and pans clamoring, no shouting in the hours before dawn as the bakers start their work. Instead, there is the distant sound of celebration within the Winter Palace—ancient voices chanting the traditional songs of Winter, echoed by the tolling of silver bells in the streets.

Kallias finally makes his way to the main street, where people skate towards the edges of the city—the street has been frozen over for this precise purpose. Out here he can see some of his cousins and the rest of the court fastening their skates, while others are already on their way through the city and across the frozen grounds to the large lake the solstice celebration has always been held upon.

Lining the way towards the celebration are large sleighs holding the bells Kallias heard earlier, dragged by white bears. Children seem to be engaged in some game where they race towards the nearest sleigh, jump on it and ring the bell as loudly as they can before zooming off on their skates again. The way they glide over the ice without worry or second thought is starting to remind Kallias of all the things he has to worry about for the next week.

His nervousness is not helped along by the sight of a young child, barely five years old, skating backwards to face her father.

He's going to look like an idiot.

_You're a decent skater, you'll get through it._

Taking a deep breath, Kallias sits down to put on his skates. Viviane sat with him for almost an hour last night, just practicing the knots he'd need to make, what to do if the laces got tangled, how to fasten the skates as quickly as possible.

At least he seems to have gotten that part right—and no one notices the way his hands shake slightly.

Heart pounding furiously, Kallias stands up. He finds his balance, pushes off…

_Left, right, left, right, left, right_. He sets a rhythm, keeps his eyes on the ice and the people around him, remembers Viviane's comments about _loosening up_. He follows the steady flow of Court members, through the lantern lit streets. Before he knows it he has made his way to the lake without crashing or injuring anyone.

The sight of the lake takes his breath away.

It stretches on an on, a solid, frozen horizon greeting him on three sides with the City of Ice and the frozen woods occupying the fourth. Straight ahead is a long table, at the center of which is a large throne, carved from a solid block of ice. The High Lord's seat.

The High Lord himself—Kallias's third cousin four times removed or fourth cousin three times removed, he can't quite remember and doesn't know the difference—is standing in front of his seat, and he seems to give off an aura of power and danger and something that is pure Winter. It sends chills down Kallias's back, in awe and terror.

Arching out from either side of the High Lord's table are round tables, set at intervals so as to make it easier for servants to glide between them.

There are people dancing everywhere—some young, some old, and all of them clad in furs and leathers of white and silver and pale blue hues. They skate in some sort of organized patterns that Kallias recognizes from Viviane's descriptions. Winter dances.

At the very center of the festivities is a large bonfire that seems to be made of entire half-frozen tree trunks, casting light that resembles the green glow of aurora boraelis—yet somehow the true aurora's glow seems brighter where they dance across the sky, illuminating the Winter night.

It's beautiful.

And Kallias feels he might actually come to enjoy Winter.

Far to the side the chefs have set up their equipment, bustling around with hot cheeses, cold meats and fish, big cauldrons of wine. And just beyond them guards and military personnel are stationed, keeping watchful eyes on the party and the wastes beyond.

Kallias turns his head to the main party and scans the crowd, thinking perhaps he will find a shorter figure weaving in between them, with hair of silver and eyes of frozen fire.

But that would be ridiculous, he reasons, since it would be impossible to spot anyone amongst the thousand or so people.

He focuses instead on making his way through the crowd. It proves far more difficult than he would have thought originally. More than once he finds himself in the middle of a large group of dancers, or between a couple doing some elaborate two-person pattern. Needless to say, he earns a few stink eyes and condescending glares.

He spots an empty table and makes a beeline for it, nearly knocking over a beautiful female in the process. With some awkward maneuvering he gets around the table to sit on the bench there and watch the crowd. His heart beats so furiously that he decides against standing again anytime soon.

"Well, that was about as graceful as one would expect." A casual voice says over Kallias's shoulder, and if he weren't seated already he might have fallen over. Thankfully he can keep his balance and dignity for the time being.

He turns around to see a male, as white haired and pale eyed as everyone else in this court. standing poised and unruffled by the table. The male skates around the table with ease, stopping abruptly and sitting down facing Kallias.

"Next time," the male continues casually, "Try to bear in mind that the female in the two person patterns usually moves to her left. That way you might be able to stay out of the way," He lifts an eyebrow as if that ought to be obvious.

Kallias nods his head slightly towards the male.

"Thank you for the tip." He says, then turns back to watch the party.

"I'm Anwir. And no you don't have to introduce yourself," he continues, even though Kallias wasn't about to, "No need for that, we all know who you are. And on behalf of this court I offer you a very _warm_ welcome." he smiles drily at the joke.

_These people enjoy playing games._

"Thank you," Kallias says cautiously.

Anwir just waves his hand in the air, as if whether Kallias feels welcome is of little consequence.

"So tell me Kallias," Anwir goes on, and Kallias gets the distinct feeling that this is a male who enjoys hearing himself talk. "from what I hear your father brought you here for magical training. You making any progress with that?" He says casually, the smile playing at his lips suggesting he already knows the answer.

Yet there is a gleam in his eyes that gives Kallias an idea that Anwir's question is in fact not all it seems. It reminds him of his mother's words.

_They trick and betray each other for a chance at power._

"I haven't spoken much to my father since I got here," Kallias confesses carefully, wondering if perhaps he has revealed too much, given Anwir something to attack him with later.

"I suppose not. He's an arrogant old pig," Anwir laughs.

Kallias isn't sure how to respond. On the one hand he has a feeling he is expected to defend his father. On the other, hasn't his mother said pretty much the same thing on a regular basis?

He decides to remain silent, something that prompts Anwir to sigh.

"Not a big talker, I see. Well, it's best not to be. Never know who might hear you in a place like this," A wicked gleam enters Anwir's eyes, as if he would enjoy nothing more than feeding those prying ears—other than perhaps feeding them to the white bears.

Kallias knows what his mother would say about this male—that he is a danger, that Kallias should do his best to stay away from him.

Someone calls Anwir's name from the dance floor, waving through the throng of people to catch his attention.

An annoyed expression flashes across Anwir's face before he covers it up with indifference, turning back to Kallias.

"Well, since it seems I have to head out I'll make this short and simple. It's pretty obvious you've already figured the best way to stay alive in this court is to keep a low profile. But here's the thing, Spring boy," he says the name rather mockingly, in a tone that Kallias doesn't like much. "The powerful don't get to go unnoticed. And if you're one of the unlucky few born with enough power to decimate this entire court, the best you can do is surround yourself with powerful friends."

"And I suppose you are graciously offering to take on that role?" Kallias can't help the slight bite in his words, brought on by Anwir's condescending manner.

"You get protection, I get support, it's a win-win situation. One thing is for sure, you're not going to last long as a pawn in whatever scheme your ass of a father is trying to concoct." Anwir stands as he finishes the sentence.

"As opposed to being a pawn in yours?" The words slip out before Kallias has thought them through, but he refuses to back down once they are spoken—the male is an arrogant ass.

Anwir hesitates, giving Kallias a calculating look before he smiles slightly—a smile as icy as the northern winds.

"You're a smart kid, Kallias." He says, and the words sound like a warning. "Sooner or later you'll figure out where it's best to place your loyalties," Anwir holds Kallias's gaze for a long moment, and Kallias feels a mixture of doubt and dread settle in his stomach.

He has so very few to count on in this court. The last thing he needs is to start making enemies, especially if Anwir is as powerful as he claims to be—something Kallias doesn't doubt, from the fearful glances cast towards the older male.

But there is another voice in his head—a voice with a very stubborn streak that sounds a lot like Viviane—that tells him Anwir is not trustworthy. And that Kallias should keep his distance.

Anwir just narrows his eyes slightly before disappearing into the crowd.

***

_Viviane_

Viviane has always loved the solstice celebrations.

It's not so much the grandeur, or the dancing, or the food—although that last certainly doesn't spoil it. But to Viviane the week of solstice celebrations has always been an occasion to spend time with her father and sister, especially in these last few years after Luana got moved out to the border. Although Viviane is happy for her sister, and hopes to join those same ranks sooner rather than later, she does miss Luana's easy smiles and laughter during the months in between visits.

And this year, Viviane finds, she is particularly excited to see what her new friend thinks of everything.

She can imagine his awestruck face as he sees the lake, transformed overnight into a dance hall that only Winter could produce. And she feels a small rush of joy at the thought that it's things like these that might eventually convince him Winter is not all bad.

Deep in thought, Viviane circles the dancing area aimlessly, catching the occasional glimpse of familiar faces on the dance floor on one hand and the sitting area on the other. Her sister is skating a rather difficult pattern at the center of the hall with a friend.

Viviane is just about to set off towards her sister when she catches sight of Kallias.

But it's not the sight of Kallias that nearly makes her freeze midstride, bumping slightly against the male to her left and earning herself a stink-eye.

Anwir.

While the male isn't a High Lord's son, and is too far removed from that end of the Royal Family to be much of a threat to the seat of the High Lord, he has proven himself to be dangerous none the less. It is not through physical or magical prowess that the male had earned himself a spot at the right hand of the High Lord's second son, but first and foremost by lies and manipulation.

And that silver tongued snake now had his sights on Kallias.

She can't really say that she is surprised—in the short amount of time Kallias has been here, rumors have already spread of his power. Something neither of them really mentioned while Viviane taught him to skate but she still wondered about. And Anwir has always been good at sniffing out anyone who might be useful to him.

Viviane manages to skate behind a couple doing one of the more traditional patterns until she's only a few tables away from Kallias, watching as Anwir stands up and says something to Kallias. She watches Kallias give an answer that Anwir clearly doesn't like.

The two stare at each other for a while, and Viviane feels a rush of anger towards the older male.

_Don't trust him_ , she thinks, wishing Kallias could somehow hear her. _You can't trust him_.

Anwir leaves and Viviane breathes a small sigh of relief.

But the feeling doesn't last long.

Just as Viviane has decided that Anwir is gone, and that approaching Kallias is safe, she sees a figure moving towards him from the other side.

Kallias's father.

Havier is well known in the court, to some extent for the powerful magic running in his veins, but more so for his disregard for the sanctity of marriage. Even with 4 legitimate children, he has at least a dozen bastards in the court, only a few of whom he's found useful enough to claim as his own.

While Kallias may not be his only child out of wedlock, he is the newest. The only one whose heart may still be claimed by another court.

And by far the most powerful—no doubt the only reason Havier even bothered to bring Kallias here.

And that, in itself, is enough to make Viviane see red.

Kallias is smart. He is kind, he is shy, he is loyal. Out of everyone, he doesn't deserve this kind of treatment—being courted as some kind of prize, used as some sort of pawn to further the causes of others.

As Havier leaves Kallias's table, with her friend looking gloomy and defeated in a way she hasn't seen before and only fuels her anger, Viviane approaches.

"Hey" She sets herself down beside him, then keeps talking. "Before you say anything, whatever those two were trying to sell you is bullshit," She says forcefully, not really caring that anyone can hear her, or that the words might well paint a target on her back.

He looks at her and smiles a little.

"I think I already figured most of that out. Although it didn't seem my…" he doesn't finish, his smile fading, and Viviane doesn't have to ask to know that he can't stand thinking of Havier as his _father_. "well, it wasn't so much a sales pitch as an order to report to him in the morning." He looks at Viviane's confused face. "He wants to start training me." And even though Viviane would love nothing more than to train with magic, she can't help but feel sorry for Kallias. That his only chance to connect with this part of himself and his heritage as a Winter Child is through his Cauldron-damned father.

"You know what?" Viviane says, to distract herself as much as him. If she focuses on this anger much longer she might explode. "Why should we focus on that? He's an ass. They both are. And this party is way too much fun to let them get you down." She takes his hand and pulls him up—he shuffles a little awkwardly out of his seat, she should have remembered he's still only learning to skate—and towards the dance floor.

"Are you sure?" Kallias asks.

"Yes," Viviane smiles at him. "I know you can do it. I taught you myself, remember?"

***

_Kallias_

They dance and dance, Viviane occasionally breaking the patterns to correct him on something.

She introduces him to her sister, Luana, who wears a soldier's uniform. Kallias nods respectfully to her, but the older female just laughs and pulls him in for a hug.

And despite the fact that thousands of people are gathered around him, despite the fact that almost half of them are likely waiting for him to mess up somehow, Kallias feels all nervousness fade out of mind.

And yet, as he makes his way back to the rooms he shares with his mother, Kallias can't help but remember his two rather unpleasant encounters earlier in the evening.

_You're a smart kid, Kallias. Sooner or later you'll figure out where it's best to place your loyalties._

_And let me be clear on one thing, Kallias_ _—_ _I will not condone any children of mine running around with Anwir or his sort._

Both males seemed desperate to have Kallias on their side, something he himself is less than thrilled about. Something he knew to be wary of, after his mother's warnings.

But his mother was wrong about one thing, at least: Viviane.

And as long as she is part of this court, as long as she loves this court, how bad can it possibly be?


	3. 352 Years Before the Mountain

_Kallias_

"Shield up," Havier's voice is emotionless as he gives the command and nods towards Nidanni. Kallias, once again, encompasses his mind in a great dome of ice. He imagines a wall so thick it cannot be breached.

He can feel Nidanni on the other side of that wall—feeling his way across the outer edges of it, looking for a way in. Testing a few spots for weakness.

"Attack his mind," Havier's voice breaks through Kallias's concentration and sends cracks along the ice surrounding his mind.

Nidanni is instantly there, pushing with claws of frost against the small fissures, yet not making any progress.

It is something Kallias was quick to learn, once he understood what he is meant to do during these training sessions—that Nidanni might be a daemati, but he isn't a very powerful one. Some of it might have to do with training, no doubt—the male is less than a century old, only about 60 years Kallias's senior. But Kallias has a feeling that even with a millennia of training Nidanni would still have difficulty launching any powerful attacks.

Still, Havier claims that having him train Kallias would be best. Safest. That Nidanni might be weak and have little training but that the risk of bringing in a more powerful daemati was too high.

He would rather trust in his own flesh and blood—something Kallias finds peculiar since the first thing Nidanni did was inform Kallias that their father couldn't be trusted. That he might say blood is important to him but that it hadn't stopped him from killing three of his bastard born children before.

Kallias isn't sure where that puts the two of them. While he does want to trust Nidanni, another bastard son of his father, the older male could well have told him all of this simply to further his own ends.

"Your concentration slipped." Kallias's half-brother says, "If you were up against someone else you would be dead right now. Or licking their boots, if that was what they wanted." he continues, as those claws relent their feeble attack on Kallias's mind. Kallias looks into Nidanni's eyes,  _his own_  eyes, but doesn't say anything.

Havier remains silent as well, but purses his lips in what Kallias has learned means disapproval. That, along with the disgusted look in his eyes, has become a constant in Kallias's life.

"Again," He finally barks out, and Kallias reinforces his mental wall of ice.

Just as before, Nidanni's claws start scraping along the outside of that wall, searching for weakness.

And Kallias is sick of it. After eight months of this, of constant training that gets him nowhere, of constant reminders how fragile his mind is, how vulnerable, he is frustrated with the lack of results. He would have thought that at this point he would have learned at least a little bit about the powers in his blood—the dangers of Winter that coat his veins.

He is sick of constantly protecting his mind, pretending that the weak nudges along the outer edge of his mind are capable of harming him.

And some deeply ingrained part of him shakes in fury, hard enough to rattle those walls of ice. Hard enough that without realizing it, his mind coils into a knot of brittle, cold frost. And strikes.

Through his walls, directly into the beast on the other side that is the form of Nidanni's mind.

Somewhere, outside this realm of thoughts and ice, there is a choked gasp as the beast retreats into the realm of Nidanni's mind again, protected by a storm of ice and snow.

"What? What did he do?" Kallias is snapped out of his daze by the sight of Havier standing from his chair to loom over Nidanni, who is lying on the floor of their father's study. There is some sort of excitement in the older male's eyes.

Nidanni blinks confusedly, as if the force of Kallias's mental blow has indeed affected him. Kallias can't help but feel a small amount of guilt at the sight.

"He… he lashed back at me." Nidanni says quietly.

"I'm sorry I…" Kallias starts but is cut off by a sharp look from Havier.

"Oh, don't be sorry, my boy." He says, and Kallias is dumbfounded to hear that there is no malice in his voice, no disgust in his eyes.

Instead, Havier seems… elated. As if this is what he has been after all along.

Somehow that isn't comforting.

"Nidanni, why don't you give me and the boy a moment?" Havier turns his words back to the daemati without looking away from Kallias. The dismissal is clear.

Nidanni stands up slowly, still blinking confusedly a few times before his eyes focus on Kallias. His eyes flicker between him and Havier, some unidentified emotion there—but one that is very closely related to alarm.

But he leaves without argument, closing the study door behind him.

"I have to say, Kallias, I'm very impressed," Havier smiles slightly, "I was beginning to wonder if you even had the power in you."

"You mean the daemati power?" Kallias asks.

"Yes. My great-grandmother is a daemati. Yes, she's still alive," Havier says at Kallias's questioning look, "Although she lives far, far away from here. I don't talk to her much. And neither does our cousin, the High Lord, for that matter. Even though they were supposedly very close when they were young." Havier says absentmindedly.

"Did you inherit the power?" Kallias asks cautiously, even though he already knows the answer.

A small hardening in Havier's eyes confirms that answer before his words do.

"No, but I make use of the fact that it is in my blood." He smiles coldly before focusing back on Kallias. "You've done well today. And I do believe such things ought to be rewarded. Don't you?"

Kallias is almost too afraid to answer. He has no clue what sort of action his father considers a 'reward', and he isn't all too keen on finding out.

Havier doesn't wait for an answer.

"I'd better take you down to the Square of Frost now. The season for cubs is almost over but I know for a fact that there was one left last night—I'm sure I can convince Kreitan to hand it over to you." Havier claps Kallias on the shoulder, in an uncharacteristically fatherly gesture.

"Cubs?" Kallias asks, dumbfounded. Havier smiles, but the smile doesn't quite reach his eyes.

"Bear cubs. It's time to start the next level of your training."

***

_Viviane_

"I just don't understand. Why does he all of a sudden want to give me a cub?"

Kallias is lying back on the old bridge, his skate clad feet dangling off the edge of it over the frozen pond. Why anyone felt the need to build a bridge in a court that never thaws, Viviane will never understand.

The pond where they first met, where she taught Kallias to skate, has become their usual spot for meeting up and talking. Ever since Viviane tricked her sister into warding the place, even though those wards are feeble and can only protect their words and not the sight of them, it feels far safer to speak here than it does anywhere in the city proper.

"My guess would be that he wants to get in your good graces. White bear cubs are a pretty big deal here you know. Raising one means it stays loyal to you, no matter what. He'll be your companion for centuries." Viviane answers from where she is standing at the center of the ice, holding Kallias's new cub in her arms. The small animal squirms a little bit, but then settles again. "Besides, he's adorable." She smiles down at the bear in her arms.

"Well, yes I know that. Around here it's like having a dog, except only the important people get them and they grow up much scarier and live much longer," Kallias props up on his elbows to look directly at her, "but why would he think I'd want one?"

"You just said it. It's like having a dog, but they're scarier. Makes people think twice about messing with you." Viviane shrugged.

"I guess…" Kallias sighs.

Viviane just rolls her eyes a little.

"Kal, the only reason you're upset is because it's Havier giving you this cub. Just because you accept the cub doesn't mean you don't think he's awful. And besides—" She skates to the bridge, where her eyes are the same height as his knees "you shouldn't take it out on the poor little thing that he's being used as a pawn in your father's games," She notices his wince when she calls Havier that, reminds herself to not do it again, then continues, "You of all should know what that feels like, Kal." She levels him a pointed stare.

He looks back at her, a little guilt in his eyes.

"You're much wiser than you ought to be, you know." He offers as an apology. Viviane can't help but smile at him.

She does that a lot with Kallias.

"What are you going to name him?" She asks.

Kallias thinks on it for a while before answering.

"I think… Rime." He finally says.

"Rime." Viviane nods. "It suits him." She lifts the little cub above her head and it yawns. "Because you are just a cold hearted little monster, aren't you?" She says in a voice she has heard her father use with young children, while nuzzling her nose into its fur.

Kallias just laughs and shakes his head.

They stay there for an hour, holding the cub and starting the training process Kreitan, the courts most respected animal handler, described to Kallias while handing over the cub.

And they head home much sooner than they usually would after spending their day out in the woods—but it is imperative, Kreitan had insisted, that they don't keep the cub from his mother too long for the first few months.

The two of them walk together to the Square of Frost, Kallias holding both of their skates so Viviane can hold Rime.

"You know, if you want it to grow attached to you, you have to be the one to handle it most, kid," Kreitan says with a grin as Viviane sets the cub back down with the mother, "Don't let her have all the fun," he winks at Viviane as he says it.

"Ha. Ha." Viviane turns to Kreitan but can't help a small smile forming on her lips as she says it. Instead she takes her skates from Kallias's waiting hands.

She's known Kreitan for as long as she's lived in the city, and has always been on friendly terms with him—then again, she is also on friendly terms with the bakers, guards, tradesmen, palace maids… as long as someone wasn't a stuck up ass, Viviane got along with them.

"Well, would you look at that?" The voice comes from behind Viviane, startling her so that she turns around.

But the stuck up ass isn't looking at her. Instead, Anwir's gaze is fixed on Kallias. His white bear, Fang, stands behind him—the bear is rumored to be one of the brutal ones, having gutted a male with a single sweep of his claws.

"You know, I was beginning to wonder if you were even getting one of these," Anwir nods his chin towards the cubs. Viviane is nearly bristling with anger at his condescending tone.

Kallias says nothing.

"You know, just because he gives you gifts doesn't mean he has your best interest at heart. At least tell me you've considered my offer?"

Viviane's heart goes a little cold.

She remembers the offer Kallias told her about at the Winter Solstice, almost nine months ago. But with Anwir gone she hadn't given it much thought.

Neither, it would seem, had Kallias.

Anwir just snorts, then looks over at her.

And in a strange, almost uncomfortable way, his gaze takes her breath away. He's handsome, like everyone in this court, but there is an aura about him that seems to draw her in.

And she can't help but wonder: would it be so bad for Kallias to take Anwir's offer of protection? Anwir might only be interested in furthering his own ends—but so is Havier, who is just as much of an ass. At least Anwir is…

Is what? Viviane isn't really sure where that thought is supposed to lead, but something inside her seems to revolt against it.

Anwir furrows his brows at her and cocks his head a little bit to the side before breaking her stare.

Air rushes back into her lungs—when did she start holding her breath?—and she nearly doesn't catch Anwir's parting words to Kallias.

"Make sure you really think about it before you condemn yourself along with your father out of misplaced loyalty." And then he turns on his heal and leaves.

***

_Kallias_

Dinner with his mother that evening is quiet as always, but Kallias can almost see the thoughts and worries churning in her mind. He isn't sure what she's heard but news travel fast on the estate—and since she has to work in the kitchens to 'earn her stay' she is part of the gossip mill.

"What is it, mother?" He finally asks, if only to break the tense atmosphere.

She takes a while to respond.

"He got you a white bear." She finally says in a conversational tone, something most might mistake for an impressed remark.

But the sharp glance she cuts him tells him otherwise.

"Yes. I believe he wants me to connect to the animal, so that I might learn to work with others better." He doesn't mention his magic, not here. Not with his mother's paranoia doing overtime.

Because isn't that what it all is? Paranoia?

He doesn't comment on it though, when she raises her shields around them, blocking sound for the time being.

"I've told you to be careful, Kallias, so don't you start telling me that you are letting that male ply you with gifts to do his bidding…"

"I am letting him do no such thing, mother. I know what he's like, I've seen it. And I wouldn't do that to you." The knowledge of how his mother has been treated by Havier has never been a secret to him. "But that doesn't mean I'm going to turn down an opportunity to fit in at this court. Besides," He goes on, remembering Viviane's words, "It's not Rime's fault he's being used as a bargaining chip in something way bigger than him."

His mother heaves a small sigh, leveling him with a pensive look.

"That friend of yours," she says suddenly, changing the topic while still keeping the shields in place, "You're still seeing her, aren't you?" It's not so much a question as a demand.

"Yes," Kallias says, preparing to defend Viviane once again against his mother's suspicions.

"Be careful when it comes to her," Kallias opens his mouth, but his mother shushes him and continues, " _because_ … there are too many people here who may use her against you. And I don't mean betrayal." She gives him a meaningful look.

"You mean… someone might want to hurt her? Because of me?" Kallias can't quite wrap his head around that thought.

It's one thing for his father or Anwir to come after him. But Viviane? Would they really stoop that low?

And then her remembers the way Anwir looked at her earlier today—a spark of male interest, sickening enough as that was, along with something else; some sort of calculating gleam; an idea forming in his head.

It makes Kallias sick to think that something might happen to Viviane.

"I'm just asking you," his mother answers, ripping him out of his thoughts, "to be careful."

The words stay with him as he helps his mother clean up after their dinner, and as he puts out his candle and crawls into bed.

He really, really can't bear the thought of anyone hurting Viviane. Not only is she the best, kindest person he has ever met, she also challenges him when he's in the wrong and calls him out on his bullshit. She is the only person he has met here who hasn't displayed some ulterior motive for getting close to him.

And he's pretty sure, he realizes with a start, that he might be falling in love with her.


	4. 348 Years Before the Mountain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I need a beta. Please.

_Viviane_

She's late.

She's so fucking late.

The thought has Viviane jolting out the door before she's even managed to lace up her coat—which turns out to be a bad idea with the biting wind. Still, she doesn't have the time to stop. Instead she shoves her hands into her new fur-lined gloves, hanging her skates over her shoulder as she does.

"Whoa," someone says as she rushes past a corner, gently catching her elbow and steering her into a small passageway, where it's not as windy. "In a hurry?"

She turns, about to snap at whoever it is that she's late and has somewhere to be when she notices who she's talking to.

Anwir.

A shudder runs up her spine and she takes an involuntary step back. She feels a familiar nervousness take over, one she feels whenever he's around.

But then, maybe that's normal. He and Kallias have never been on very good terms, and Kallias is her best friend. Even when Anwir is perfectly nice, the picture of a perfect gentleman— _truly, perfect_ whispers an incessant voice in her mind that she doesn't care much for—all these nerves are simply for Kallias finding out that she…

That she what? Is on speaking terms with Anwir?

"Should I worry about whatever it is you're running from? Start running too?" There's a mischievous glint in his eyes, one she doesn't see much around others. And an undertone of calculation that she does. "Or…" He continues, "are you perhaps running _towards_ something?"

 That snaps her out of her thoughts.

"I'm sorry Anwir, I can't talk right now." She says as she takes off again, even though some part of her tries to insist that it's terribly rude of her to rush off so suddenly… but a much larger part of her—the one called common sense—can't wait to get away from him.

Especially when she catches the short, but appreciative, glance he gives towards her chest—currently covered only by her thin, woolen sweater.

The kind of look that makes her wish she'd laced up her coat before leaving home.

"Sorry," she says again, then wonders why she said it, but she doesn't have time for that.

"I'll just have to catch you later," Anwir calls after her, and though the thought makes that small part of her… strangely giddy, the rest of her feels as if she's just been threatened.

She just hurries down the street, and it ends up only taking her ten minutes to get to the Frost gate at the Third Wall.

The City of Ice has five walls, with the First Wall circling the entirety of the frozen farmlands, the second one going around a few trade posts along with the frozen lakes and woods, the third one protecting the city proper, the Fourth Wall encircling the upper districts and the fifth and innermost surrounding the Winter Palace.

The first wall keeps intruders from the stronghold of the Winter Court; the fifth one protects the High Lord and his closest family. The other three walls are near useless except when the city is actively under siege. The Third Wall is most likely the least important, as is evident by the dozing army official that acts as commanding officer. Viviane doesn't think she's ever seen him fully alert.

She smiles briefly at the guard on duty, Pernil, before she hurtles out of the city proper. She has reached the edge of the frozen woods before the clock strikes noon, but she knows she won't make it in time.

Indeed, the faint sound of the gigantic bell reaches her when she is only halfway down the winding path towards their spot.

"Damn it," Viviane mutters under her breath.

It's still another five minutes until she feels the faint buzzing she always does as she passes through the wards her sister laid out, almost five years ago.

Just as she does she catches sight of him, sitting on that old bridge. Where he has sat a thousand times before. For some reason he seems to prefer watching her skate instead of joining her on the ice.

"I'm late. I know, I know," She's out of breath as she puts down her skates.

"Yeah you are. I thought I'd have to start without you," Kallias is smiling as he says it, and he jumps down onto the pond—he has to avoid a yapping Rime as he does. His skates, Viviane notices, are on the opposite bank of the pond.

"Oh, hush." Viviane just says as she hurries onto the ice to meet him.

Then she embraces him in a bone crushing hug.

"Oomph." He lets out a breath but puts his arms around her none the less, holding her close.

Her best friend in the world. In that moment, everything is perfect.

"Happy birthday, V," He says softly into her hair, holding her closer as he does. She feels a smile spread across her face.

"Oh, is that what day it is?" She says, letting out a short laugh when he shakes her.

Even though they stand there for what feels like minutes, hours, when he lets go it is still too soon.

He looks down at her unlaced coat.

"Cauldron, V, you're going to get sick like that," he says, then starts fastening the laces on her coat.

"I'll be fine, Kallias. Besides, I just ran the whole way here. That ought to keep me warm for the time being." She shoos his hands away, but fastens a few of the buttons to keep the coat relatively closed. "There," She says.

She doesn't miss the way his eyes linger on her hands when she fastens the one over her breasts, nor the guilty look in his eyes when he hurriedly looks away.

She'd be lying if she said she hadn't considered it, at least for the past two years: Kallias has grown a great deal from the kid she met five years ago and now turns quite a few heads at court—and not always for the same reasons he used to.

But she has also decided risking their friendship is not worth it, that they will both have to find that sort of companionship somewhere else.

Even if his interest is exciting in a way Anwir's never is—never could be.

"So…" Kallias clears his throat, a little nervously. "have you thought any more about enlisting?" He finally asks, looking at her again.

That puts a little bit of a damper on her mood.

"Oh, father's been giving me a hard time. He's not really fond of the idea." She sighs.

"But he's not going to stop you, is he? If I know you that will only make you more determined to go ahead with it," he nudges her shoulder playfully. Rime seems to take this as invitation to start sniffing down Viviane's coat for food.

She laughs and pushes him away.

"All right you big idiot, you got me." She pulls a small portion of dried meet from her inside pocket—the damn bear must have smelled it—and throws it out on the ice. Rime bounds after it, nearly knocking her and Kallias over in the process.

She looks back at Kallias, who is giving her a half expectant, half worried look.

"V, do you want to talk about your father? Is he giving you trouble?" He prods gently.

Viviane sighs.

"Well, it's not so much that as the fact that he has very strongly suggested I should 'let it wait'." She looks back towards Rime, who is busy chewing the meat she brought for him. "I think it's just really hard for him. With Luana already in the army I'm all he really has. Plus, he keeps pointing out that I'm still so young and that I shouldn't be rushing off to war." She makes a face. "I don't think he gets it. I used to think he did, I mean… he's been in the army for centuries. I'm not doing this to fight, or go to war, or get glory. I just think…" she sighs again. "That it might be easier to help others from there." She looks at Kallias, hoping he will understand that need in her, knowing he always does.

And sure enough, the warmth in his eyes is enough to make her feel better in an instant.

"I'm absolutely certain, V," he says in a low voice, "that you will get your chance to save the world. It might not come tomorrow, or any time soon, but it will come." He puts an arm around her, leaning his head against hers. "Maybe your father is right, to some extent. You're still young. We both are. It won't be the end of the world if you don't enlist today, or tomorrow, or even the day after that." He pulls back to look at her. "And when you feel the time is right, just know that I will support you. Unconditionally." He smiles at her.

And Viviane thanks her lucky stars once again that she made a crazy, rash decision five years ago, to teach some scrawny kid how to skate.

***

It's still early when they make their way through the winding main street of the City of Ice. Despite wanting nothing more than to stay with her best friend on the pond, skating circles, joking, laughing, watching his idiot white bear lose his balance and fall, she knows her father will be devastated if she doesn't make it home in time for her birthday dinner reservation at the sea food restaurant she loves.

Kallias gives her one last smile on the street outside her door, then he and Rime continue towards his father's estate.

She makes it all of two steps inside when she is greeted by a head with short cropped white hair and eyes that match her own. And she has barely caught her breath when her sister whisks her into a bone crushing hug.

"Happy birthday!" Luana shouts, a little louder than is necessary with Viviane's ear almost pressed to her face, but at that point Viviane no longer cares.

"Lu!" Indeed, the screeched word is just as loud, if not louder than Luana's exclamation. But neither of the sisters really care as they hug each other to the point where neither of them can breathe.

At which point Luana grunts and pulls away.

"Cauldron, Vivi, are you trying to kill me before you even join the ranks?" She laughs.

"Why didn't you tell me you would be here?" Viviane ignores her sister's jab.

"It's a surprise. Besides, I wasn't sure I'd make it here in time until a few hours ago. I didn't want to disappoint you." Luana gives her another hug before pulling her through the foyer and into the dining room.

Her father is seated at the head of the table, leaning forward on his elbows, talking to…

There's a choking sound, and it takes Viviane a moment to realize that it's coming from her—but she really doesn't care all that much.

She has known for some time that her sister knows the Morrigan. Is friends with the Morrigan. Fought beside the Morrigan during the war.

But she didn't really expect the Morrigan to show up in her living room.

 _The_ Morrigan. A bubble of excitement wells up in Viviane's chest: The Morrigan is a legend, the great warrior of Night who fought beside Myriam herself, who strode into the hellish landscapes of the southern lands with her friend to strike the chains of every man, woman and child.

The amused look that passes between Luana and the Morrigan snaps Viviane out of her stupor—or most of it, at least.

"You—you're—" Viviane starts, but there is so much going on in her head she can't seem to get the correct words out.

The Morrigan smiles warmly at her and stands gracefully.

"Please, call me Mor." She extends her hand and Viviane shakes it gingerly.

The Morrigan—Mor—is in her house. In her living room. Chatting with her father. Which is insane because important, powerful people from other courts don't just sit in her living room as if they belong there.

Her father clears his throat, again startling Viviane.

"I'm Viviane." She says, her voice pitched a little bit higher than usual.

Mor gives her another comforting smile before looking over at Luana, drawing Viviane's attention to her sister as well.

Luana is smiling at both of them.

"This is officially the best birthday ever." Viviane says in a shaky voice.

Both her father and Luana laugh at that. Mor joins in after a moment.

"And we haven't even gone and eaten yet. I think that's a new record," Her father steps around Morrigan to give Viviane a hug, "Happy birthday, Snowflake." He steps back and looks over at Mor, "So, what do you say? Think you'll join us for dinner?"

Mor looks a little bit taken aback by that.

"Oh, I don't think… I mean," She turns to Viviane "It's your birthday I wouldn't want to intrude…"

"You'd be more than welcome," Viviane says, and honestly means it.

"I…" Mor almost looks at a loss, but it's clear by her manner at this point that she's not comfortable coming along.

"But hey, if you don't want to then that's understandable." Viviane adds.

She notices Luana's small smile at that.

"And didn't you have to go meet that emissary?" Luana says. Mor gives them both a thankful look.

"You're right. I'd better get to that." She smiles again, that smile that oozes confidence. She then hugs Luana briefly before turning to Viviane and giving her a hug as well.

"Thank you for having me over," She turns that smile on their father, and Viviane can practically see how she has him wrapped around her finger.

"Any time," he says, and clearly means it.

Luana walks Mor to the door and Viviane turns instantly to her father.

"Did you know?" She asks in a voice that is only half accusatory. The other half of her is in too much awe.

Her father just gives her a conspirator's smile before putting a finger over his lip and peeking into the foyer.

When he finally allows Viviane into the foyer Luana is leaning her back against the door, her face split in a wide grin and a far off expression on her face.

"She is very nice, you know. I've always liked her. You should bring her over more often," Their father says casually as he shrugs on his coat.

But Viviane catches the small hint of a smile at the corners of his mouth, and the reassuring squeeze he gives Luana's shoulder as they go outside.

***

She keeps her mouth shut about the army through the walk towards the restaurant, and manages most of dinner.

In fact, Viviane is rather proud of herself for not bringing up the subject before on their walk home.

"Lu, I've been thinking…" she starts, catching her sister's attention.

"Hmm?" Luana is seemingly wrenched out of thought.

"…when you enlisted, did you have to have any sort of prior training?"

Luana hesitates for a while before answering.

"When I enlisted there wasn't much choice about it. All the courts were at war and anyone who could fight was sent to the battlefield. And those of us who didn't like what our court fought for had to either change sides or fight and die for a cause we knew was wrong."

Viviane doesn't dare interrupt. It's so very rare for Luana or her father to speak of the war—at least so openly.

She knew her sister had been one of the very first to desert the Winter armies. Their father, only a soldier at the time, followed suit, not willing to let his daughter risk her life in such a way—alone.

And in the brutal fighting, their father wasn't the only one turned kin slayer. The High Lord's youngest brother stood on that battlefield and felled his brother, and in moments the power shifted to him.

That same High Lord still reigns today, and holds their father in great regard—despite their father claiming their tolerance for each other is based on knowing what a hassle it would be if they killed one another.

Luana looks over Viviane, memories fading from her eyes.

"It wasn't all that necessary, no. But I'm not too familiar with the recruiting process today. Either way, it can't really hurt." Luana nudges Viviane with her elbow as she says it, a small smile on her face.

"Does that mean you'll train me?" Viviane says hopefully.

Luana's smile grows.

"Don't you have professional people here to take care of that?" She teases. Then her voice becomes a little more serious, while still holding that mischievous edge. "It seems I'll be around for at least a month now, we'll see what we can do about that. Who knows, maybe I can get Mor to help,"

Smiling, Viviane repeats herself from earlier that evening.

"Best birthday ever,"

***

"I know that up to this point father has mostly taught you to keep your power in check, and how it is safest for you to tap it off without hurting anyone." Luana's voice has the calm authority of someone who knows what she's talking about. How she still hasn't been given her own command is beyond Viviane—Lu is a natural leader.

Viviane nods. Their father has mostly taught her to breathe cold and create hoarfrost, along with a few lessons in protecting her mind—Viviane truly doesn't know if she's any good at it, since the only daemati she knows is Kallias and he has no inclination to attack her mind.

They've set up a small training station in the yard behind their house, with protective walls encircling the perimeter and an old archer's target against the wall of the house. Mor sits on a bench of ice sculpted by a clever craftsman down in the city, enchanted so that it never melts.

"What you now need to work on," Luana continues, "Is using it." She puts out her hand and produces a small spear of ice that she hurls it at the target as a demonstration. It strikes dead center.

"No matter what manner of magic you work with, they key to it lies in your emotions—in connecting with them and then directing them into your magic. Not only do you need to find that center of power in you, the one that carries Winter in it, but you need to envision and understand what you want to do or create." Luana continues, and produces another spear. She then proceeds to morph it into a rough image of a shield, and then allows it to sprout and grow into a large snowflake.

Viviane nods and puts her hand out the way Luana did. She can feel Winter in her veins, can feel the snow on her skin and the ice in her bones. Yet no matter how she stares at her hand all she manages to produce is a layer of hoarfrost covering her glove.

She lets out a frustrated sigh.

"Closing your eyes may help for the first few times." Mor pipes in as she stands up.

Viviane does as Mor suggests as she concentrates on that power within her. Still, when she opens her eyes there is nothing.

"Don't expect it to work the first time you try it. There's no pressure to get it right away." Luana says calmly. Which is reassuring enough.

The first hour or so, that is.

After four hours, not so much.

Luana left to check in with her commanding officer in the city some time ago, and the sun has nearly set on Viviane's poor attempt at summoning ice—real, proper ice, not that pesky coating of hoarfrost—when Mor puts a hand on her shoulder.

Viviane starts, having forgotten the older female's presence.

"I think you should take a break for a while," Mor says lightly, before heading over to the bench. She must have gone inside and brought out water canteens because there are two lying on the enchanted, intricately patterned surface.

Viviane just sighs and sits down with her. It's not like she can do much training on her own at this point.

"Viviane, is it all right if I ask you why you're so eager to join the army? You are very young, after all." Mor's questioning gaze seems to cut through Viviane.

"I just… it seems like the best way to help people. And that's what I want to do." Viviane answers.

There's a lingering sort of curiosity in Mor's gaze now, unnerving Viviane, as if she knows that it might well be a truth but not the whole truth—and Viviane remembers one of the tale's of the Morrigan.

The gift of truth.

And perhaps truth is not such a bad option.

"It's also that…" Viviane starts, collects her thoughts, then continues, "It just seems, a lot of the time here, a female's only options are to join the army or settle down and get married."

There it was, the small fear she had kept locked up inside herself. The truth.

When she looked over at Mor she found not the condescending would-that-be-so-bad look she had half expected, nor the compassion the other half of her anticipated.

Instead of seeing the friendly, flippant Mor, she has the distinct feeling she is now facing the Morrigan, fierce warrior of truth. And the glint in her eyes is angry.

It takes Viviane a moment to realize the anger is not directed at her.

The Morrigan carefully takes Viviane's hands, and looks her in the eyes with a awe-inspiring determination.

"Viviane, I may not know you well, or have known you long, but I know that you are determined and that you are set on your goals—and I want _you_ to know that I truly, truly admire that. There will always be someone trying to make you do things their way, who tells you what you can and can't do simply because you were born a female. But you can't let anyone else make the decisions of what you want for you, and you can't stop fighting for your right to make those decisions. You choose your own path." Her hold on Viviane's hand tightens and her eyes don't waver.

Viviane smiles slightly.

"Thank you." She says quietly.

Luana comes bounding back into the yard, and Viviane is about to tell her she's ready to continue when she sees the look on her sister's face.

"I just got orders. I'll have to leave in a few hours." She apologizes to Viviane before looking over at Mor. "You get any word yet?" Viviane can tell she's being careful with her words.

Mor isn't focusing on her, rather her eyes are locked on a shadowy corner of the yard, as if seeing something there.

Viviane looks into the shadows with her, and for a moment she thinks she sees a small movement—but that is most likely a trick of the light.

"Actually, I think I've delayed my return a little too long." She looks over at Luana. "I should probably get back home." she says quietly, and Viviane gets the overwhelming feeling she's intruding on a private moment. She decides to get up and give the two of them some space.

She walks across the yard, towards the old archer's target. She takes it into the small shed where her father keeps most of his outdated gear, dented armor and broken weapons all thrown into various, unorganized heaps. Viviane props the target up against the inner wall and heads back outside.

Mor is already gone, and Luana's shoulders are slumped, her expression bordering on defeated.

But she pulls herself together and walks over to Viviane.

"I'm really sorry I can't stay any longer." She says, no indication of whatever conversation she's just finished with the Morrigan—except for the small, sad glint in her eyes.

"It's alright. When duty calls your name. Do you need me to tell father?" Viviane asks, as reassuringly as she possibly can.

"No, it's still a few hours, like I said. I'll stay until he gets back and tell him goodbye." Luana walks back over to the bench where Viviane sat with Mor only moments ago to pick up the water canteens. She turns around and looks at Viviane again.

"You should keep practicing that, though. While I'm away. We'll see how well you're doing when I get back." Luana smiles before going back into the house.

Despite Luana's sudden departure, and even though she feels guilty for it in light of her sister's apparent heartache, Viviane feels lighter, clearer, after her talk with Mor.

_You choose your own path._

She might not do it tomorrow, or the day after, but Viviane _will_ enlist, because for better or for worse that is what she wants—not just because she will be in a position to help others, but because she wants it for herself: to prove to her father and anyone else who might doubt that she can.

She is Viviane of Winter, and she will choose her own path.


	5. 333 Years Before the Mountain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was beta read by goldbooksblack who has been insanely helpful and also I emailed her like 6 times or something? Hero.

_Kallias_

The blow of Nidanni's magic narrowly misses Kallias. The ice spear shatters against the wall of the training room. Small pieces of it scatter across the floor.

Nidanni is really not pulling his punches.

Instead of focusing on that fact, Kallias brings his mind back to the training at hand—Fighting his adversary with magic as well as his mind.

Kallias ducks the next blow. Sends out a wave of ice himself.

Nidanni dances out of range. The wave of frost crashes through the window behind him. The window breaks in an explosion of glass.

Nidanni's movements are practiced. He carries himself with the ease of someone who has done this for well over a hundred years, but with limited training. Perfect form, but still a little sloppy around some of the edges.

And Kallias has to be ready to exploit that.

Moving as he did before, Kallias sends another bolt of ice hurtling towards Nidanni—just as he pulls back on the rapidly forming hoarfrost now coating the gaping window hole.

As predicted, Nidanni easily sidesteps Kallias's blow. And steps right into an onslaught of thousands of needles of ice. The ice slips through both his layers of protective magic and the thin tunic covering his back. It cut his back, his arms, the side of his face. One of the needles even hits his neck with blunt force.

Nidanni's mental shields slip, as they always do when a person is faced with blinding pain, and Kallias pushes his advantage.

Nineteen years ago, when they had started these training exercises, Kallias's mind had been powerful but without any form. His mental attacks had been a lashing out of his entire self, while Nidanni's mind had taken the shape of a clawed, fanged beast.

Now, Kallias's mind has claws of its own; as he pushes through Nidanni's shields he embeds those claws in the corners of his brother's mind.

All while carefully avoiding actual contact with his true mind and memories. The invasive attack feels vile enough on its own without him snooping around in Nidanni's head.

Nidanni goes ramrod straight, barely breathing, and Kallias once again feels the nauseating surge of power at holding someone's life in his hands.

"Good, Kallias. Very good." Havier says from the sideline, where he always stands and watches them.

It hasn't escaped Kallias's notice that to this day, Havier has never fought Kallias himself.

Perhaps he would think nothing of it, if it weren't for his mother's warnings still sounding in his head. And every time they do, Kallias finds himself going almost as paranoid as her.

Something he's tried very much to avoid.

Kallias lets go of his brother, who reaches up to wipe a small trickle of blood from his face.

"You can leave now," Havier snaps towards Nidanni, who exits the room with an almost angry look on his face. Kallias wants to follow him and apologize.

"I'm very proud of you, Kallias," The words are shocking, coming from Havier's mouth. The old male is not very fond of praise, and deals it out very seldom.

And in a strange, sick way, that makes Kallias want to earn that praise even more.

"Thank you" is his only reply. The only acceptable reply.

Havier waves his hand.

"There's something I've been meaning to discuss with you for a while now, Kallias. Something of importance." He leans in close and speaks in a low voice, even though Kallias can feel the wards he has placed around the rooms.

"I'm sure you've heard that Prince Nahien is coming back into the city to celebrate his mother's birthday." Havier's face grows somewhat disdainful as he mentions the High Lord's oldest son and heir apparent.

"I've heard," Kallias says, preferring not to say any more.

Havier gives him a strained smile.

"Well, I've been meaning to secure a meeting with him for quite some time now, but he doesn't seem to care much for my company. What I would like you to do is simply keep an eye on things, and let me know the moment he returns to the city."

"So you want me to spy on the High Lord's heir?" Kallias asks, half in disbelief, half because he wants to gauge Havier's reaction to those words.

"You don't have to think of it as spying. Think of it as monitoring. Ensuring his safe return." Havier claps Kallias on the back and leaves, letting his wards drop and the cold wind rush in through the broken window of the training room.

Kallias is so deep in thought when he exits the room that he almost doesn't notice Nidanni leaning against the wall.

His half brother examines his bloodied hand for a moment before meeting Kallias's eyes.

"Whatever he asked you to do," he says quietly, and Kallias notices the heavy silence, the kind that makes him aware Nidanni must have placed wards around them. "do your best to stay out of it. The last thing you want is to get tangled up in the politics in this place."

"It is the last thing I want, actually." Kallias answers cautiously, wondering how far he can trust Nidanni, and where his brother's loyalties might lie.

Nidanni sighs and purses his lips as if deciding on something himself, looking at Kallias in a way that has him subconsciously checking his mental shields.

"Look, I know…" Nidanni hesitates for a moment before continuing, "I know what it's like, having his attention like that. You get the feeling that he's proud of you, and that you've somehow earned his attention. I used to feel like that too." Nidanni's eyes are open and honest, "But in the end, all he's proud of is the hold he has on you, all you've earned," he casts a fearful glance to their surroundings, as if double checking his wards, "is the part of a pawn in a game much larger than you can possibly keep up with." Nidanni's eyes bore into Kallias's as he says it. "You can't trust him,"

Kallias feels no small amount of indignation, and anger, at Nidanni's words. In fact, Nidanni is starting to sound an awful lot like his mother.

"That's strange, since I'm certain he'd say the same about you if he heard you right now." Kallias simply says and turns around to walk away.

"Kallias!" Nidanni's hand comes down on Kallias's shoulder. "Don't you get it? We mean nothing to him! We're only the byproducts of his trysts and we happen to be of use to him. Supporting him isn't in our best interest." Nidanni takes a small breath before he says his next words. "I've been speaking with the twins," He says, referencing Tiaskel and Serin, another product of Havier's many affairs, "And we all agree that whatever is going on can't end well for us. We might want to consider where we place our loyalties."

Kallias pauses for a moment. A part of him is angry at Nidanni, furious, for suggesting Kallias doesn't know how to look out for himself. But another part recognizes that hearing Nidanni out might provide him with some vital piece of information.

And yet another part, one that he doesn't really want to think about, has to admit that Nidanni is right.

"Did you have anything in mind in particular?" Kallias asks, letting a little bit of curiosity, and interest, creep into his voice.

There is a small look of victory and relief in Nidanni's eyes.

"Not yet, no. But I have a feeling that our father isn't going to be around much longer. And I think the two of us, at least, ought to start looking around, see if there's anyone we feel safe forming an alliance with. If we are left without protection here it will affect both us and everyone we care about,"

Images of his mother, then Viviane, flash through Kallias's mind at his words.

Cauldron, if she had any idea how he felt about her…

She'd probably kick his ass.

Kallias brings his mind back to the present.

"That's not such a bad idea," Kallias answers, and is perplexed to learn that it's only half a lie.

He has known since he came here that Havier isn't a trustworthy man—nor an honest one. If Havier is only looking out for his own interests, it is more than fair if Kallias starts doing the same.

Nidanni's eyes are full of relief.

***

_Viviane_

_Stupid army with their Cauldron damned officials with their cursed, forsaken excuses…_

Of course Viviane has suspected, these last 15 years, that she was being overlooked. That her requests of being moved to a station outside the city were falling on deaf ears.

But never has she been told so blatantly what the army thinks of her.

 _"Truth_ _be told, Viviane," He should have addressed her by rank, not by name, how dare he? "I don't think the border would benefit from having your kind there." Sciamos, her commanding officer, had said to her this morning, when she'd just finished her night shift._

 _"What is that supposed to mean?" Viviane had asked_ _incredulously._

_"It means that females of status such as yours are better off within the city. Out of harm's way." He had told her._

_"Of status such as mine?" Viviane had been too dumbfounded to do much else than repeat what he said._ _Which, in hindsight, may have been a good thing—had she given voice to the boiling rage within her she may well have been discharged on the spot._

 _"Yes._ _Females of high status who have no business going out Cauldron knows where to fight battles that are best left to real soldiers. It's best to let them take care of it. Meanwhile you females can stay here to marry the finer males of this court and carry their children." Viviane's outrage had nearly clouded her vision. She had always thought it strange, how all the female recruits ended up stationed within the city, where they were oh-so-conveniently further away from all the fighting and closer to the males many of them sought to escape in the first place. That it had been done on purpose was an outrage._

_But Sciamos was not done._

_"So to answer your request, for the fifteenth time in as many years; no, I will not reassign you to the border. I will not recommend that my superiors reassign you to the border. In fact, neither you nor anyone in your squadron will leave this post for as long as I have anything to say about it._ _And make no mistake," He had given her a sharp look then, full of distaste, "I know that your father is well connected within the army. But if I hear you have tried taking this over my head I will have you discharged immediately." And before she got out another word, he had dismissed her._

She's furious. Livid. _How dare he?_ To keep her trapped, not only in the city but at the _Third Wall_ ; the most _useless_ , _pointless_ post in this entire, Cauldron forsaken court. If she'd wanted to sit around all day doing nothing she would have joined the Cauldron damned city guard, not the Frozen Armies.

She trudges up along the winding main street of the City of Ice, making her way towards the Snow Gate of the Fourth Wall. To her right is the Square of Hail, where vendors and craftsmen and entertainers are setting up for a carnival in honor of the Lady of Winter's birthday. A gifted magician is breathing so cold that the air around him freezes—and through some intricate art he blows the air into the shapes of bears and birds. He than hands the animals to the children who pass his stall.

And Viviane is even more furious, because while she has always loved the sight of children, loved the thought of such miracles existing, all she can think of now is Sciamos and his vile words.

_You females can stay here to marry the finer males of this court and carry their children._

A familiar figure weaves his way through the throng of people, a young white bear trailing behind him. And although they rarely approach each other in public their eyes meet across the Square, and some of her anger drains out of her at the sight of his smile.

At the sight of the bastard son of to the Court's most hated politician, raised in the Spring Court, bearing more Winter magic in his veins than many encounter in a lifetime.

Viviane may not know who, exactly, Sciamos considers to be a _fine male,_ but she is certain his definition does not match hers.

***

_Kallias_

Kallias is woken in the night by a shout.

It takes him a moment to even recognize the sound, to realize that it deserves any sort of response at all—his and his mother's room is adjacent to the kitchen's and when woken before dawn, it's usually his rule to go back to sleep.

But the continued disturbances, along with the sound of his mother's voice in the hallway outside, has him alert in an instant.

In a split second he has decided he's not going back to sleep, and rushes to put on some clothes before seeing what the commotion is about.

The hallway is filled with chaotic commotion as servants and cooks and bakers of his father's household run back and forth. There's whispering and shouting and panicking—he sees Nidanni at the end of the hall arguing with one of the private guards hired by Havier.

And Kallias's mother stands beside the kitchen door, a shaking hand covering her mouth.

"I knew something like this was bound to happen," Kallias can barely hear the soft whimper from across the hallway, before her eyes snap up to meet his. Her eyes take on a resolve and she strides towards him, pulling him after her into their room and closing the door. An eerie stillness settles around them, one that alerts Kallias to the presence of her walls. He raises the feeble protection spells he himself has learned—and it is a startling realization that with all his focus on teaching Kallias to protect his mind, Havier has not once offered to help him protect his words.

"Kallias, please tell me you're not involved in this in any way." His mother whispers.

"What is it? Mother, what's going on?" Kallias whispers back. Despite the shields around them, and the stillness they produce in the air, he can still hear the commotion outside.

"Has he asked you to get involved in anything? Was there anything he wanted to do for him?" His mother's whisper is forceful, close to a hiss.

"What…" Kallias begins, before it makes sense.

Havier. She's asking about Havier.

And for once, he isn't able to answer that question with a no.

His mother reads the look in his eyes, and that seems to shoot her panic up to a new level.

"What did he ask?" She whispers in a voice almost too low to discern.

"He… he asked me to spy for him… I didn't actually do it," he hurries to add when he sees the look in her eyes.

"Who?" Her voice is becoming stronger, as if she already knows the answer and is bracing herself for the result.

"It was… Prince Nahien." Kallias answers, hesitating to check the wards around them before saying the name.

His mother closes her eyes for a moment, but the dread in them doesn't escape Kallias's notice.

"What's happened?"

His mother opens her eyes again.

"Prince Nahien returned to the city only a few hours ago." She tells him.

Nothing in Kallias could have prepared him for her next words.

"And he's been murdered."

***

_Viviane_

For the next three days after Prince Nahien's murder, Viviane's shifts become absolute hell.

Things are bad enough when there is nothing going on. Throw in something unexpected like this and Sciamos, that useless sack of manure, is determined to prove that the prince's death was the result of negligence from the army personnel stationed at the Third Wall.

Who, exactly, he wants to blame, remains to be seen.

It isn't until the fourth day that the tension eases somewhat.

"Sciamos seems to be in a better mood today," she remarks to Iskelle, the female sharing her shift. She is twenty years Viviane's senior and the daughter of a rich merchant who owns a large estate within the Fourth Wall.

Iskelle shoots a quick glance towards Sciamos's back before answering.

"They found out who killed him." She whispers, and there's an excited edge to her voice. It's one thing Viviane has noticed about her in the past year—she has a love for mystery and drama.

"They caught the killer?" Viviane asks, although her interest is more along the lines of curiosity than passion. She never cared much for Nahien—as awful it is to speak ill of the dead, it was common knowledge that he was an ass.

"Not the killer, not yet anyway, but the one who organized it." Iskelle shoots another glance towards Sciamos before the next words tumble out of her.

"It was one of his distant cousins, probably trying to get ahead in the line of succession. You remember that Spring Court bastard that was brought here about twenty years ago?"

Every cell in Viviane's body seems to freeze.

_It can't have been him. He wouldn't._

But however she might try to convince herself, there's only ever been one "Spring Court bastard" brought into the royal family.

Kallias.

_Oh, Kallias, what has happened to you?_

Iskelle continues on, as if her former words hadn't shaken Viviane to the core. As if the very world wasn't falling to pieces around her.

"So, word is he used ash of Ash—that sound kind of silly when you say it out loud, doesn't it? Anyway, they caught him two days ago and the trial was a closed one…"

"They tried him already?" Viviane manages.

"They convicted him. He was executed last night." Iskelle looks at Viviane and seems to notice her condition for the first time. "Are you alright?"

How was Viviane supposed to answer that? _Yes, I'm fine,_ _just a little shocked to find out best friend committed murder and is now dead._

"Kallias was executed?" Viviane manages to whisper.

Iskelle blinks at her for a confused moment.

"Wha… no, oh no, Cauldron no. Didn't you hear me earlier?" She says.

The confusion that settles over Viviane is washed away by relief—Kallias isn't dead. He's not dead.

"You said…" Viviane starts to explain.

"I _said_ ," Iskelle's voice is tinged with irritation, "it was the Spring bastard's father. Havier. He was looking to get closer to the High Lord's seat, hoping to inherit the title for himself." she rolls her eyes. "why did you even ask if you weren't going to listen to what I was saying?" she stalks off towards their position along the wall.

Viviane swallows back her anger at Iskelle's insensitivity. _It's not her fault she doesn't know about your friendship with Kallias. You've never told her._

_But it is her fault that she's being a bitch._

Sighing in resignation, Viviane goes to join her.

***

_Kallias_

_I have a feeling that our father isn't going to be around much longer._

Those had been Nidanni's words, hadn't they?

It seems strange, even though Kallias has thought for some time that Havier was bound to get killed soon, to suddenly find himself without a father.

He couldn't stand his father. He really couldn't.

But seeing him dead? For a while Kallias hadn't been sure that was what he wanted—that it was something he could want. And even though Havier was an asshole, Kallias feels guilty to see gain in his death.

But then there's also the other part of him, the one that tells him there isn't gain in Havier's death. The part that regrets Havier for what he represented to Kallias for the last twenty years.

Security. Protection.

Even if the male was stuck up and full of himself, being in his good graces had made it so that people didn't bother Kallias.

After a while, even Anwir stopped trying to woo him.

And that is what he really grieves—the certainty of belonging somewhere, even if you don't belong.

He despises himself for it.

But he still ignores the stares he receives on his way to the public training center. And he realizes that's another thing he'll miss—after a few years in Winter, he stopped being the Spring court bastard and become almost anonymous. Now he is the son of a murderer.

Nidanni waits by a pillar in a training ring, his posture stiff and awkward. He looks as uncomfortable there as Kallias feels.

Nidanni spots him and picks up the two practice swords leaning against the wall. He throws one towards Kallias.

Kallias catches it, his grip a little bit off and his movements awkward. As embarrassing as it is to admit, he hasn't received much physical training from his father, and never in public. All his training was received at his father's estate.

That is another thing he'll have to worry about now—with one of Havier's true born sons taking over as head of the family, the bastards and anyone connected to them will no doubt be thrown out soon enough.

Kallias makes sure Nidanni's shields are in place before speaking.

"Any news?" he murmurs, adjusting his grip.

"I spoke to Pat." Nidanni answers, referring to their half sister, Paritea—one of Havier's bastards with distant relations to the Day Court. Kallias suspects Havier only claimed her in hopes of her displaying skills at spell cleaving.

"From what she can tell the investigation was sloppy at best. His wife swore that he'd been at home when the prince died. They didn't even let her testify." Nidanni grunts as he raises his sword, and Kallias mirrors him.

While it turned out Pat's magic was far from powerful, she was an excellent investigator, something Havier had never quite valued. Something that came in handy now.

"Anything else?" Kallias asks before striking. He has always found it better to strike first instead of over thinking his blows. It will do him no good to dwell on how easily defeated he is.

Nidanni blocks him and lands a hard blow on to his side before sidestepping. He seems to be as infuriatingly difficult to defeat at this as he is at magical sparring. The difference is that here, Kallias doesn't have twenty years of practice.

They circle each other slowly, assessing, while Nidanni speaks.

"She managed to speak to Akas for a few moments without him spitting on her," Nidanni makes a slight face of disgust at the mention of Havier's true-born son, and Kallias feels himself mirroring it. "He claims that Havier had made some friends in Autumn. The plan was to propose a trade deal to the prince and get into his good graces." Then Nidanni strikes again, a series of blows that narrowly miss Kallias as he struggles to back away.

His back hits the wall and Nidanni presses the tip of the blunt practice sword against Kallias's neck.

They both lower their weapons, panting slightly as they take up position again.

"Everything would suggest," Nidanni says in a strained voice as he deals the first blow, "that Havier was set up."

Despite almost being certain of it before, having his suspicions confirmed makes Kallias a little bit nauseous.

"Who headed the investigation?" Kallias says in a low voice, then glances towards a couple of females leaving the ring.

His eyes catch on her silver hair, her pale blue eyes. Eyes that meet his and hold his gaze for an infinitely long moment before turning away with an unspoken promise.

_We'll talk later._

"The High Lord and a group of his advisors." Nidanni answers Kallias, who tears his gaze away from Viviane, wondering if the squeezing in his chest is from the pressing situation or the fact that he is seeing her for the first time in almost a month.

He scrambles to avoid a blow aimed at his gut.

"Which advisors?" Kallias asks.

"Quite a few who might have influenced the High Lord or Anwir."

"Anwir?" Kallias asks in disbelief, shock nearly making him drop his sword.

"Yes, he was head investigator." Nidanni takes another look at Kallias. "What is it?"

"You're saying Anwir was the head of the investigation?" Kallias repeats, realizing it's probably a stupid thing to ask but he needs to be sure.

Nidanni frowns.

"What, you think he might be involved?" The confusion in Nidanni's face is a surprise to Kallias—since when was it a secret to anyone that Anwir couldn't stand Havier?

"You think he wasn't?" Kallias asks back.

"It doesn't seem that likely," He finally says with a small shrug.

Kallias considers shaking his brother. In what world was it not likely for Anwir to frame Havier for a crime he didn't commit to get him out of the way? Even if it means letting the real murderer go free, Kallias is certain that Anwir's priorities would be spinning the situation to his own advantage. And getting rid of Havier was very much to Anwir's advantage—while the two of them didn't butt heads very often, Havier still did everything in his power to undermine Anwir.

Kallias takes his frustration out in a series of blows instead, all of which Nidanni blocks.

"But we still haven't discussed…" Nidanni breaks off as something behind Kallias catches his eye. Kallias looks over his shoulder to see Paritea approaching them.

Nidanni's shields drop for a moment as she gets closer.

"Pat?" Nidanni asks.

Pat silences him with a glare, a skill Kallias would be envious of if her manner didn't suggested their situation just became far more dire.

Pat walks past them without another glance.

Nidanni allows her to pass, ignoring her along with the dozens of eyes now honed in on them.

It's one thing for Kallias and Nidanni to meet here, sparring. They may not have done so before but it must be clear by now that they are not welcome at Havier's estate.

For three bastard children of a recently executed traitor to stand around however, having a private discussion…

Not for the first time in the past few days, Kallias feels a surge of uncertainty. There are five of them, the claimed bastards of Havier—and though they might stick close to one other, they have no protection now. There is no one else willing to consider and alliance with them, to be so much as seen around them.

They are completely on their own.

Nidanni raises his sword but not his shields, so Kallias assumes their conversation is over for the time being.

It takes a few more rounds of sparring for everyone in the sparring ring to stop giving them suspicious glances.

After almost an hour, Kallias is exhausted and his arm is tired. But Nidanni seems full of restless energy still when they walk out of the ring to dispose of the practice swords.

Nidanni puts the blunt sword back where it belongs before bending to lace up his boots…

Except instead of doing that, he pulls a small note from under his foot, stuck there in a clump of ice.

Kallias realizes, much too late, that it must have come from Pat.

Nidanni reads the note, his expression freezing for a long moment.

Kallias feels the shields rise around them again.

"Prince Etvor is already showing signs." Nidanni says in a low voice.

Etvor is the High Lord's second youngest son—known for exceptionally strong Winter magic. Magic that will only grow now that he is heir.

He also just so happened to detest Havier and everything he stood for. Not that Kallias can blame him—Havier was a notorious asshole at their court.

It does however lower the life expectancy of Havier's children considerably.

***

It takes a few months for the staring to die down a little.

Not completely—that won't happen for at least the first ten years, Kallias has learned from experience. For a court with a long history of drama, the people of the Winter Court tend to treat every scandal as if nothing exciting ever happens.

Akas, true to his self, threw out every child of Havier not born to his lady, along with every relative they might have on the estate. It took a couple of days, during which Kallias and his mother huddled with Rime in backwater alleys for warmth at night, to find anyone willing to give them shelter, let alone jobs. Even when desperate for work forces, the Winter Court doesn't dare associate with him.

In the end they found an innkeeper outside the Third Wall, who now rents his mother a cupboard of a room in return for which she works in the kitchen. Kallias and the bear, however, needed to find somewhere else to stay. It was one thing for him to employ a traitor's former kitchen maid, the innkeeper had said. Another thing to employ a traitor's son.

Kallias just thanks the Cauldron that Akas didn't manage to take Rime from him. He'd tried, but the bear's loyalty is unwavering. In the end, Rime's presence saved Kallias—after a week on the streets they were given a job in a diamond mine, right outside the Fourth Wall. It takes an hour by sled to reach the city proper, a trek Kallias finds himself making less and less.

Havier's bastard stock, as the court tended to refer to them, doesn't dare meet openly—and their meetings are few and far between.

Pat and Nidanni argue that their best interest lays in sticking together—in forming an alliance with someone in power but remaining loyal to one another.

On the other hand the twins, Tiaskel and Serin, argue that they shouldn't evoke suspicion by sticking too close. That they will never seek to actively harm one another but that remaining as close a unit as they are now would be too intimidating.

It's easy for them to say. Everyone at court already accepts the fact that Tiaskel and Serin are a package deal. They won't be on their own.

The rest of them though…

Kallias doesn't want to dwell too much on that.

He is more mindful now of his mother's suspicions—if the court was ready to let Havier take the fall for a murder he didn't commit just to get rid of him there was no telling what they might think of next.

He is starting to see how he hasn't given her enough credit.

He meets Nidanni about once a month at the practice ring for a sparring match, something he remains hopeless at. But the sparring isn't what's important. It's the chance to speak to his brother, the chance to enter the city.

The chance to just possibly catch a glimpse of his best friend. His best friend that he is very much in love with and hasn't spoken to in months.

He is on his way to one such sparring match when an all too familiar voice speaks behind him.

If there's one thing Kallias misses about Havier, it's his ability to keep that particular individual at bay.

"I know it's been a while but in case you were wondering," Anwir says casually as he walks to stand in front of Kallias, "my offer from twenty years ago still stands." His smile is pleasant.

Kallias gives Anwir an unimpressed stare. If there's one thing he's learned in Winter it's that a cold attitude can save your skin in most situations.

"I wasn't," he says flatly. Then he brushes past Anwir, pretending not to notice him as best he can.

"Are you sure? Because as you'll recall, I warned you this would happen." Anwir says. Usually, Kallias would have ignored him.

But there's some gleeful edge to Anwir's voice that makes Kallias hesitate.

He turns around, and looks, really looks at Anwir.

The male may not have changed much in regards to appearance and yet… there is some energy to him, some persistent smile at the corners of his lips.

And Kallias remembers again what Nidanni told him those months ago: Anwir had been the one to sentence Havier to death. Anwir, who had the favor of the High Lord.

Who also happens to be good friends with Prince Etvor, the new heir.

It is as if Anwir can see the realization dawn in Kallias's eyes. He lifts his brows as if to challenge Kallias.

"Like I said, Spring boy. The offer stands." Anwir smiles and walks away.

It takes Kallias a long moment to collect himself before he remembers where he's headed. Nidanni. He has to speak to Nidanni.

Kallias almost sprints to the training ring. He meets Nidanni in their usual spot, and is in position before Nidanni has even fully pushed away from the wall.

Kallias sees the surprise in his brother's eyes but impatiently motions him to go on.

As soon as he feels the shields slide into place he starts speaking in a low urgent voice.

"Anwir killed the prince. And he framed Havier."

A small frown crosses Nidanni's face.

"It doesn't seem like him." At Kallias's incredulous look he shrugs. "I know he can be almost as untrustworthy as Havier, but I've been around here for almost a century and I've seen the guy at work. It doesn't seem like his style."

Kallias stares at his brother.

This is _exactly_ like Anwir's style. How can Nidanni not see that?

And then Kallias registers the guilty way Nidanni tries to avoid Kallias's eyes. And it's as if all the air has been knocked out of his lungs.

"He offered you an alliance, didn't he?" Kallias says, dropping his hands, feeling the practice sword clatter out of his hand, not caring that everyone at the practice is staring at them now.

"Kallias, it's the smart choice." Nidanni pleads.

"Has he approached the others?" Kallias asks in a flat voice.

Nidanni closes his eyes and exhales heavily through his nose.

"The twins, too." He says reluctantly.

Kallias feels a sudden flash of anger.

"And what about Pat?" He asks, trying to restrain the tremor in his voice.

Nidanni only hesitates for a moment.

"We'll still hold loyal to her. She'll be under our protection. As will you, Kallias." His eyes are pleading as he looks at Kallias.

"But with certain conditions, I suppose?" Kallias doesn't bother keeping the ice out of his voice. Or his magic—cracks begin to appear in the ice at their feet, spreading out from Kallias's position.

"We would prefer, of course, to still have you on our side, Kallias." Nidanni says—ever the diplomat.

"What would be the issue with allying with him anyway?" Nidanni continues, "We owe our father no loyalty. We all know what we were worth to him. And without his protection we have no one, Kallias. Not only that," Nidanni's expression is pained now, "We'd be making him our enemy."

That does douse Kallias's anger by a fraction. With the kind of pull Anwir has at court, getting on his bad side might well be the last thing one does.

But Kallias can't shake the vile feeling, the _certainty_ , that allying with Anwir might be the biggest mistake of his life.

He shakes his head slightly.

"I don't… I don't like him, Nidanni. Something about him is…" Kallias trails off. He can't really explain it, anyway.

"I know." Nidanni says.

Kallias sighs.

"This isn't something I'm willing to just… just jump into, Nidanni. You have to give me time to think about this." With that Kallias picks up the practice sword and leaves.

It takes a lot, once he is outside the Third Wall, once he is in the quiet and calm of the forest, to keep himself together.

Because he doesn't know what to do. How could he? This wasn't something he expected.

He just hopes—without believing—that the one person he wants to talk to about this will be there for him. The one person he feels he can talk to.

He makes the final turn, passing through Luana's wards. The kind of wards he's never learned to build himself, thanks to Havier's focus on teaching him only to attack.

And Kallias finds himself wondering if that served some purpose to Havier himself. If neglecting to teach Kallias to defend himself was a method to make him depend on Havier for defense.

She's not there—but he didn't expect her to be. It's been months since they spoke. Months since he dared approach her at all.

He's considered some kind of menace at court, the Spring court kid, the bastard son of a treacherous murderer. The last thing he wants is for her to be associated with him.

Still, just seeing that old, half crumbled bridge, and that pond—the pond where she taught him to skate—brings him a peace of mind. As if her connection to this place, and him being here, somehow brings him closer to her, makes him able to think clearly—even though the images now flooding his mind are of her.

Cauldron, she hadn't even looked at him earlier.

He sits on the edge of the bridge, a position he has been in a thousand times before as he watches her skate.

He can't take the alliance with Anwir. His mind might have been torn back at the keep but here, so close to Viviane, he can't imagine it.

But that still leaves him with a question of what to do.

He could approach one of the other influential people at court. A few of the more powerful families have council members in their midst, people who have the attention of the High Lord and the power to protect him.

But warming someone up to the idea of an alliance might well be a lengthy process. He could well end up in exactly the position he is in now, but with Anwir in the know of what his intentions are.

What Kallias really needs is a quick escape. A loyalty that Anwir will not and cannot question, but will still distance Kallias from him.

And most of all, he needs a teacher, and a proper one at that: he needs someone who is willing to teach him to defend himself, so that he won't constantly have to rely on others to protect him.

Still, as he looks up to see a smaller figure approaching from beyond the wards around the pond, he knows he has a very slim chance of achieving any of those things.

***

_Viviane_

Viviane is worried—worried and tired and _furious_.

What is she furious at? It doesn't matter, she is. A little bit at Kallias, for not talking to her for months on end. A lot at his father, for being _stupid_ enough to kill an heir. But most of all she is worried.

She looks up as she nears the wards around their pond—she is pretty sure she can see him through the trees, sitting at the edge of the bridge, in his spot. And he's watching her approach.

She passes the wards her sister placed around the pond, feeling the fraying, aging edges of it with her magic.

It might be a good idea to redo those. She'll have to ask Luana, she's never been good at protective wards and whatnot.

She stops at the edge of the pond, suddenly nervous.

It's been months since they spoke. Will he even want to talk to her? She doesn't really know what she'll do if he doesn't—probably yell at him.

"I saw you leaving just as I was finishing my shift," she says, not approaching him in case she needs to storm off.

Kallias looks into her eyes, and the pang of hurt echoes deep inside her.

What kind of shit friend doesn't talk to you for months on end, even when you're living in the same damn city? It's not like he was busy or anything.

He looks away, but not before she sees that he has recognized the feeling in her eyes. It's always been like that—he's able to tell her emotions better than anybody else.

"I'm sorry," He starts right away, looking back up to meet her eyes.

They both stay silent for a long moment, until she decides that she doesn't like the awkwardness between them. But she's not about to let him off the hook.

"Sorry for what, exactly?" She asks.

Kallias rubs his eyes with his hands, and Viviane notes the way the tremble slightly. That eases her anger somewhat.

"I haven't been the best friend to you lately. I…" He sighs, dropping his hands to the edge of the bridge on either side of him, leaning forward as if bracing himself to jump down to the ice. "… V, I don't know what to do. With all of this going on, I just… I didn't want you to get hurt from being associated with me." He hangs his head as he says it.

"Never mind the fact that we meet in a soundproof clearing outside the city where almost no one ever goes." Viviane says drily.

"People still notice, V. I'm pretty sure the guards can guess when they see us going in the same direction with less than five minutes in between us."

"The guards don't care. I've been on that shift, trust me. The thing you're most concerned about is not freezing your ass off." She says it in a scolding tone but walks towards the bridge as she does, sitting down beside him.

They sit in silence for a while, the kind of comfortable silence they've always been able to let sit between them.

"So why come here today?" Viviane finally asks.

"I needed time to think." Kallias says, casting a quick glance over at her, "And I was hoping to see you."

That makes Viviane smile a little. Then they lapse back into silence.

It's Kallias who breaks it this time.

"Havier didn't kill the prince." He casts a glance towards Viviane, who is sure her expression is a shocked one. "It was Anwir. And now he has offered me and my siblings an alliance that would ensure our safety at court." Kallias confesses.

Viviane remains silent for a moment, taking in the information he has just given her.

"And you're going to accept?" She finally asks.

"I don't want to."

That is surprising.

_Anwir is the kind of male anyone would count themselves lucky to have on their side._

Not to mention that refusing him would mark Kallias as Anwir's enemy.

 _Besides, what is there not to like about Anwir? He is_ …

What? Viviane can't really tell how that thought was meant to end. Anwir is what?

Handsome? Charming? None of those things are helpful to Kallias, especially when Anwir had killed his father.

Because the rational part of her brain knows that Anwir was also dangerous. Very much so. And she doesn't like being around him—something about the way he looks at her makes her skin crawl. Yet, it is as if the thought of him kicks off some automatic response in her, something that is starting to confuse her more and more. A voice in her head that is hers but isn't, reminding her of all of Anwir's good qualities.

_Handsome. Charming. Powerful enough that an alliance would be a good idea…_

"But I'm not sure how much choice I have." Kallias continues, unaware of her inner turmoil. "If I turn him down I'll most likely be his next target." He huffs a humorless laugh at the thought. As if his dying is in any way amusing.

"V, I don't know what to do." He confesses and looks up at her. The frightened, pleading look in his eyes breaks her heart—and silences that voice in her head.

She puts an arm around his shoulder and leans her head against his.

"We'll figure something out," she says in a low voice.

They stay there for a long moment, leaning against each other, and Viviane can't help but feel a little helpless herself as she watches the sun move across the sky.

"I have a shift in the morning," she says quietly when the sky is almost dark.

Kallias hugs her tight one last time before letting go.

"I'd better not keep you from your duty then," He smiles ruefully at her as she jumps down from the bridge.

An idea comes to Viviane's mind.

Duty.

"Kallias." She says, staring down at her own knee, not really seeing it, while she thinks. "What would happen if you enlisted?" She phrases the question carefully, trying not to get his hopes up.

Well, she was right about the part where his hopes remained down. He only seems confused.

"I would be… part of the army?" He asks hopefully, trying to gouge where she's coming from.

"No I mean… with everything going on. With Anwir. Do you think maybe…" She doesn't finish the thought, looking up at him as she sees the realization of what she's saying touch his eyes.

"I'm… I'm not sure," he says slowly, and she can tell from the look in his eyes that he's thinking about it. "I don't think he'll ever stop… but still…" He looks at her, intently. "If I don't do it, I'm definitely done for. So I don't have much to lose, do I?" He smiles hopefully at her and her heart soars at the sight.

"We'll go right now and sign you up. You need to talk to Alnear—he's in charge of border recruits." Viviane stands up and takes his hand. As much as she would like helping him enlist she knows Alnear will not take her seriously—the male has always been rude and dismissive towards her and every other female recruit. Though, to his credit, at least he doesn't leer at them the way Sciamos does.

"V?" She hesitates at his tone. He doesn't seem inclined to continue despite obviously struggling with something.

"What is it Kal?" She prods, her voice gentle.

"I don't think… I mean, it's probably best if I try to get… away. From the city, I mean," His expression is pained at that, and her stomach plummets when she realizes what he means.

He might be able to save himself, but it would mean cutting ties with her. At least, for a while.

But if that's what it takes to save him…

"Then we'd better sign you up somewhere far away. I think some the border cities are looking for recruits," She knows they are, since she's been applying for years. "How does Itocia sound?"


	6. 323 Years Before the Mountain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> goldbooksblack beta read this chapter, I honestly don't know where I'd be without you <3

_Viviane_

"Oh, he's in a bad mood today." Iskelle says as Sciamos storms into his office. Her tone suggests she wants nothing more than to find out why.

"Maybe his wife found out what a sleaze he is and left him," Adarre grumbles from Iskelle's other side. Her shift doesn't start for another five minutes and she is already falling asleep as she puts Iskelle's helmet on her head. She and Iskelle are the same size and rarely share a shift. Which is why Adarre claimed it would be ridiculous to bring another abomination of a uniform into existence for her sake.

Iskelle's version of the story is much different; Adarre's father is on the verge of bankruptcy and doesn't want to waste money on what he calls 'a senseless hobby'. Even though said hobby allegedly brings more money to the table than his business.

"You do realize that whatever has him in a bad mood is only going to make this day worse for you?" Viviane says to Adarre.

It seems neither she nor Iskelle can argue with that.

She isn't the only one who has realized what Sciamos's bad mood means; as soon as he barks out Viviane's name she receives pitying looks from around the small barrack.

Viviane braces herself for the inevitable leering she'll recieve as she steps into Sciamos's office.

"There was a young male in here earlier looking for you, Viviane." He says curtly. These are the only times Viviane is grateful for her completely disfunctional uniform; it hides her body from this pervert's eyes.

"I told him that the officers here are not allowed to see family or friends while on duty. It would be too much of a distraction, and we can't do with any more of that," Viviane grits her teeth at that comment, "but he insisted on seeing you after your shift, so I gave him your schedule."

Viviane starts at that.

"Who was this male?" She tries to keep her voice level as she asks. There are only two males whom she would want to give her schedule; one is her father, the other is Kallias. Neither of them seems likely to turn to Sciamos for it.

"I believe his name is Anwir," Viviane freezes in cold shock.

Why would Anwir want to talk to her?

"And you gave him my schedule?" Viviane asks numbly.

Sciamos fixes her with a glare that one would give a child.

"You might want to consider, Viviane, the position this put me in." Viviane wants to laugh at that. The position he had been in? What about the position he has now put her in? "One does not simply refuse a male like that. And one does certainly not keep them waiting, so I suggest you get going." He dismisses her and looks down at the letter on his desk.

Viviane leaves the office to find Iskelle waiting in the otherwise empty guard barrack. The older female's gaze immediately hones in on Viviane with focus.

"What did he want? Did you find out why he's so grumpy?" She demands.

"No," Viviane says absently after a moment. She isn't sure why Iskelle is so invested.

"Alright, but you still have to tell me what he said." Iskelle crosses her arms and taps her foot. Viviane would find her impatience entertaining if she weren't so shaken.

"He told me someone was looking for me earlier and that he handed that person my schedule." Viviane says. Iskelle's eyes take on a look of disbelief.

"Wait, to a stranger? He can't do that!" She says with outrage. And Viviane is grateful that at least someone sees her side of this.

"That is unbelievable! Did he tell you who?" Iskelle asks.

Viviane hesitates before answering.

"He said it was… Anwir." She finally says.

Iskelle's face goes slack and her eyes wide.

"You mean _Anwir_ -Anwir? Member-of-the-High-Lord's-council-Anwir? Best-friends-with-the-High-Lord's-heir-apparent-Anwir?" She gives Viviane a sceptical look, "Are you sure? Are you teasing me? Because if you are I swear on the Cauldron…"

Iskelle's ranting is cut short when the door opens.

On the other side is, indeed, Anwir.

If Iskelle's eyes could get any wider they would pop out of her head.

"Viviane," Anwir says with a smile that makes her insides tie themselves into knots. As always, she doesn't know how to interpret it. _Fear or desire? Repulsion or attraction?_ "I was starting to worry about you."

Iskelle turns to Viviane and mouths something that looks like _Cauldron he's hot_. It makes Viviane furious that the female who only seconds ago was on her side now seems to swoon over Anwir.

"I was just on my way out," Viviane says as she brushes past Iskelle, to where Anwir stands in the doorway. She expects him to move when she steps closer as if to pass him. He doesn't.

"Why don't I walk you home?" Anwir murmurs in a tone of voice that makes Viviane's skin crawl.

_You can't say no, it would be too rude_ , a part of her that she doesn't like much whispers.

Anwir takes her short hesitation as a yes, and takes hold of her elbow, as if to guide her.

Her body is instantly alert from the contact, her mind a contradictory mess of reactions.

_Lean closer._

Pull away.

_Take his hand._

Run.

"What is it like, your watch? I've been meaning to ask you for a while now, I just never found the right time." He gives her a small smile as if they share a secret.

They share nothing.

"It's uneventful, I suppose." Viviane says. He laughs. The sound itself isn't too bad, but she still finds it awful.

_Wonderful._

She wants to leave.

_Stay._

"Yeah, I'd imagine." Again, that smile.

Viviane tries to stop the shudder that threatens to race up her spine. She knows, on some level, that Anwir wouldn't do anything to hurt her here, out in broad daylight.

But she also knows that the days in Winter can grow short, and that it will soon be nightfall.

"I need to get home," Viviane takes her elbow out of Anwir's grasp.

Anwir's smile fades a little before he seems to catch himself and it grows again.

"Of course. And as I said, I'm walking you there." He says, and proceeds to steer her towards her own house as if she doesn't know where it is.

Viviane doesn't let out a relieved breath until she escapes into the house, leaving Anwir standing at the bottom of the front stairs.

It's a good five minutes before her heart stops racing and she can start pulling off her armor. Another five minutes until she allows her muscles to relax.

And her mind?

Her mind races through dinner, well into the hours after sunset. She doesn't leave the house again. Instead, she lays in her bed as her mind goes in circles, over and over and over again, trying to make sense of her afternoon.

What just happened?

***

_Kallias_

"Shoot it down, Danek!" Kallias roars at the archer hiding in the woods.

The creature in front of him hisses. One of its forked tongues darts towards Kallias. He raises the shield on his hand, allows the snowed steel to take the creature's venom.

An arrow flies between them, closer to Kallias than it is to the creature.

"I said shoot _it_ , not _me_!" Kallias shouts, in part to get the message across, in part to try to keep its attention on him. He doesn't want it spotting his friend behind the rocks to his left.

He can see Danek from the corner of his eye, see him fumble with the bow and arrows.

The creature is thrashing around, sniffing the wind. It turns its head, left, right, back and forth. Searching.

It must have caught the scent.

And if it focuses its full attention on Kallias's friend, they will be done for.

Kallias curses under his breath before doing what might well be the stupidest thing he has ever done.

He charges towards the creature.

He cuts with steel, cuts with ice. Tries to avoid the tongues.

His blade cuts one of the tongues in half. Venom sprays. He forms a shield of ice, sees the venom melt through it. He allows the ice to form into a large spear that he shoots towards it.

But the creature has a very high tolerance for magic. Which is the reason Kallias should finish this. Needs to finish this.

"SHOOT IT FOR CAULDRON'S SAKE!" He screams. He hopes that the noise will at least startle it. His hope is in vain.

The creature just roars back at him.

Another arrow. This one sinks into the its side—not a fatal wound, but a painful one.

It turns its head towards Danek, lets out a scream of warning…

And that is the exact opening Kallias's friend needed, as he leaps from behind the boulder and sinks his teeth into the creature's neck.

It bucks and thrashes as it tries to throw Rime off, but Kallias is quicker. With a small burst magic to help him, he leaps up until he straddles the front most part of the creature's neck, where he swiftly rams his sword through the vulnerable back of its skull and into its brain.

Blood spurts on Kallias and the creature falls down. He manages to jump off it before it crushes his leg, but then allows himself to fall back into the now bloodied snow. Rime sits down by his side and starts licking the blood off of his fur.

Danek jogs toward them, looking rather sheepish.

"Sorry about that. I don't know what came over me." He says, his deep voice more breathless than usual.

"You know, it probably says a lot when Rime is more useful on a patrol than you are." Kallias snaps at him. He isn't quite ready to forgive the arrow that almost hit him.

Danek's eyes flash with hurt indignation.

"It's not like I can bite that thing to bring it down, you know. I don't have teeth like Rime. If I did, I could have finished it by myself!" He huffs as he slings the quiver across his back.

Kallias lets out a short laugh as he feels the rush of battle leave his body. Any moment now he'll start shaking.

"Fair enough." He says and puts out his hand.

His friend pulls him back to his feet and helps him steady himself.

"I have to admit though, that was a hell of a show you put on there." Danek says as he turns to look at the creature.

It is at least four times Kallias's length, and lying down as it is now the top of its head reaches Kallias's waist. Nine tongues, counting the one he cut off—nine decades old. Both small and young for its species.

And thank the Cauldron for that. Kallias shudders to think what state he might be in had he been faced with a bigger, more experienced creature.

"We need to head back. Get a team out here to haul it to the city." Kallias says after they've assessed the carcass for a long moment.

"And explain to Risor why we didn't get anyone out here to help us take it down." Danek adds.

"There wasn't time. It would have reached the town before we got back and we had…" Kallias starts.

"I said explain to Risor, K. I know why we did it." Danek cuts in.

Kallias sighs.

They walk back towards the city, Rime catching up with them quickly once he realizes they're leaving. The sky is almost dark when they reach Itocia, and aurora borealis have started creeping across the sky.

"You two are back late," Remarks Otera as she sees them return. Her skin is more blue than usual, most likely due to the cold, and matches her hair perfectly. Her overlarge eyes narrow as she takes a whiff of them. "Did you kill something?" She asks.

"K did. With the bear." Danek says and points towards Kallias and Rime. Rime has taken the stop to mean he can start cleaning himself again.

Otera gives the bear a disapproving look that makes him stop immediately. Her tribe, the Tami people, have always shared a connection with the white bears of Winter.

"Better keep going and explain it to Risor. He's waiting for your report." Otera says to them before heading back towards her patrol partner and mate, a Tami male whose name Kallias has never been able to pronounce.

The city of Itocia had once been an important trading post for the Winter Court—as it stood in one of the few passable valleys on the edge of Winter's boarder with the unclaimed lands of the Holy Mountain. From the frozen surface of the lake at the center of the valley one can still see the Mountain's peak, covered in snow so pure it seems to glow. From here, Winter had dealt furs and meats and wines and precious, beautiful diamonds and stones to the solar courts. In return the people of Winter had received fruits and silks and medicine—and wines.

If one thing has always united the Fae and faerie people of Prythian it is their love of wine, and their enthusiasm for its many varieties.

Now, the lands of the Mountain have grown too unruly, too wild for any tradesmen to pass. What used to be a sanctuary for all Fae is now ruled by feral beasts—some of whom trickle over the borders of Winter and Dawn. Itocia, being at constant threat from these monsters, had lost its purpose long ago, and in many ways it still seems to mourn its former glory.

Half the city stands on the solid foundations of a small mountain, its buildings rising up through the layer of ice and snow that covers all of Winter. Many of the taller, grander buildings lean a little to the side, as if weary of their meaningless existence. Few houses are repaired, even fewer streets are cleaned. The wall surrounding the city is much lower than any of the Five Walls of the City of Ice and in desperate need of rebuilding.

And it is telling, perhaps, that these days Itocia's greatest attraction is the library of Old Magic, maintained by a few retired scholars from all around the Winter Court. Some are rumored to have brought their personal collections of controversial books to the library, while others are said to have fled their homes with nothing but the clothes on their backs. Many are shunned even by the people of this city, and the visits to their library grow fewer and further between as the decades pass.

Closer to the center of the valley stands the army camp—a newer addition to the city, no more than half a dozen ordered lines of small wooden barracks. Half of them are meant as housing for soldiers and staff, with 10 bunks each. The other half are a mixture of bath houses and other communal areas, along with offices set aside for the highest ranking military personnel.

One of those houses belongs to First Lieutenant Risor, their commanding officer. He is a High Fae born to this city, and will tell anyone who asks how much pride he takes in defending his home.

"You're late," Risor says with a small frown where he stands outside his house. Knowing him, Kallias would guess that it has more to do with worry than it does punctuality. Risor has proven himself to be a good male.

"We found a vipera on our way back, sir." Says Danek, gesturing towards Kallias and Rime, both covered in the near black blood. The light from the torch outside Risor's house illuminates them to make it apparent.

"And you went up against it by yourselves?" The friendly tone he usually employs has left Risor's voice.

"It had almost reached the first farms and towns when we got there, sir. By the time we could have brought a team it would have killed people. We also knew we had a better chance of handling it all three of us together than if one of us had run here with a message." Kallias says.

Risor regards him for a moment.

"Was that your call?" He asks.

"Yes, sir." Kallias says, feeling his stomach knot. If Risor decides it was the wrong decision, he'll be pulling double duty for months.

"And I suppose you took care of it?" Risor asks, eyes flitting between the bear and Kallias.

"Yes, sir." Kallias says.

Risor looks at him for a moment before he nods. Relief washes through Kallias.

"And did you stand on the sidelines?" He asks Danek with dry humor in his voice.

"I shot a couple of arrows at it," Danek says indignantly.

"You missed the first one," Kallias says with an eyeroll.

"You had it under control," Danek shoots back.

"Alright, children. Save it for later. Was there any other sign of trouble?" Risor brings them back to attention.

"No sir," Danek and Kallias both respond automatically.

"In that case, you can assemble a team to go with you to retrieve the carcass first thing in the morning. And Kallias," Risor gives a friendly smile now that he is no longer speaking as a commanding officer. "Great job out there." Kallias nods at the compliment.

"Now find a bath for you and for Cauldron's sake, clean the bear." Risor says with a mocking frown. Danek laughs.

Kallias gives a half smile before setting off towards the area set aside for the white bears. He stops at the edge of it and kneels down next to Rime, takes a handful of snow and starts scrubbing.

The bear yaps at him, not pleased with the treatment.

"I know, but we can't let your fur stay all bloody, can we?" Rime, while still not happy, settles down and allows Kallias to clean the blood from around his maw.

"There, all done," Kallias says after a few minutes. Rime nuzzles his neck in appreciation before bounding towards the other dozen or so bears that sleep against the wall.

Kallias walks back towards the camp. He decides to make a short stop at the barrack he shares with Danek and eight other males and pick up clean clothes. After that he heads to the small bath house set aside for the males in the camp.

In the front room of the bathhouse he takes off his armor and sets down his sword and shield, knowing that he will have to clean them sooner rather than later. Then he undresses and enters the baths.

There are only two males inside, so Kallias can take his pick from the large tubs the heated water flows through. He chooses one of the warmer ones. He leans his head back against the stone of the sunken bath, closing his eyes. It's been a long day.

Footsteps approach him. He opens his eyes to see Danek standing over him.

"Care if I join?" He says.

"By all means. I'm in need of some good bath company," Kallias says with a mocking smile. Danek's preference for males is no secret.

Danek snorts.

"In your dreams, K. You're not pretty enough for me." Danek says and arches an eyebrow.

"Ouch." Kallias says and closes his eyes again.

They sit in the bath in comfortable silence for a while.

"I'm really sorry about earlier, K. I mean that. I don't understand why I couldn't hit it." Danek says in a low voice after a while.

Kallias opens his eyes to meet the other male's concerned gaze.

"It's all good. Just aim better next time." He says, and means it.

Danek gives a small, appreciative smile before he dunks his head into the tub and starts washing his hair.

Kallias decides to follow suit, washing the blood from his face and hair before it settles too much.

Once he manages to clean most of the blood away he rises from the bath and collects his dirty clothes and armor. The bath house was built so that those who arrive tired and sweaty and possibly bloody can bathe in one room before cleaning their clothes in the next.

"You got lucky today, I see," A voice from the other end of the cleaning house greets Kallias as he steps in, wearing nothing but a clean pair of pants and a tunic. Fresh air seeps in through the open window, magic heating it instantly to the preferred temperature of the room. Kallias looks up to see Yerim, one of the males he shares a barrack with.

Yerim's father was a High Fae from the Summer Court and his mother is a Tami. The result is a fascinating blue-black hue to his skin, along with blue hair, warm blue eyes and round ears. Out of the ten of them, Yerim is the mediator, the one who settles conflicts. He and Danek have also been courting each other for almost five years, but neither of them has the guts to make the next move.

"If you want to call it that, I suppose." Kallias sighs as he dunks his clothes into the nearest barrel of water and sets about cleaning his armor.

They sit in silence for a while as Kallias cleans. Yerim has never been a talkative male, something Kallias appreciates.

Just as Kallias is about to finish cleaning his armor the door opens and Danek walks in—and in true Danek fashion, he seems to have forgotten to bring clean clothes and has opted to walk around naked.

Kallias lets out a pained groan and gets up to leave. His clothes can wait.

"He's all yours," He calls to Yerim over his shoulder—he can hear both of them telling him to shut up.

The walk back to their shared barrack is short, and the barrack is half empty. Five sets of bunk beds line the walls, and the only source of light is the nearly burnt out candle on the table they've set up at the center of the house.

Kallias shivers from the cold and stomps his feet enough to feel sparks of heat race up his limbs.

It's something he learned from another soldier—a distant cousin, so to speak. The female is the bastard child of the High Lord's line, with more lesser faerie blood in her veins than High Fae. But she told him none the less that if he is related to the High Lord, chances are he carries at least a hint of magic from other courts in him.

"I thought you were with Danek?" Says Hoben with a furrowed brow as soon as he sees Kallias, near blue from trudging back wearing so little.

 

"I left him at the baths with Yerim," Kallias answers and can't help the shit-eating-grin on his face.

"About time," Grumbles Bokarri without looking up from his game of glaciers. He scowls at the tiles as he sees his set won't match, gathers them up and starts over.

Kallias snorts, climbs into bed and closes his eyes. His bed was the first thing he warded once he really managed to channel his magic into protective forms. It took a few months of training and lessons—in which the noises of a shared barrack woke him up more than once—but in the end he figured out how to make soundproofing wards, keyed to allow only the sound of the emergency sirens.

He had also decided, after being woken up by a bucket of water as a prank, to allow only himself and those he favored to enter those wards.

Yet it seems the peace and quiet isn't enough for him to sleep. His mind races in circles and can't seem to settle on any one thing. He thinks of Rime. The vipera. He thinks of Danek, Yerim, Hoben, Bokarri, all the males he has shared his barrack with for the past ten years.

He thinks of home. His siblings. His mother.

 Viviane.

Of all the people Kallias had to leave behind when he came to Itocia, he regrets leaving Vivaine the most. While they never met much openly at the City of Ice, and even though things were too dangerous for them to do so near the end, he still wishes he could see her—and not just once a year, when he gets his two weeks of leave.

Sometimes he thinks he might get over it. He convinces himself that it is only a crush, some silly childhood infatuation. But those convictions are thrown out the window the moment he sees her again.

Not to mention that no matter what, he is always wondering what she's doing, what is happening to her. On good days, he imagines her at their pond, skating circles, laughing with him. On bad days, he sees her angry with him. On even worse days he sees her as he last saw his brothers—tied into an alliance with Anwir, sworn into his service.

Yet that does not compare with the worst of his nightmares, where he wakes in cold sweat with the sight of her lifeless and gone, stuck in his mind's eye. Those are the nights he doesn't sleep again—where his father's fate, deserved as it was, haunts his every breath, every thought.

It seems that tonight, however, will not be one of those times. Instead, this is one of the nights where he imagines he can almost feel her—as if the bond created by their friendship makes a bridge between them, over which he crosses to bask in her presence.

It may have been hours, it may have been minutes, but when Kallias finally falls asleep, his thoughts are of hair as white as snow, eyes of cold fire, and a laugh so sweet nothing will ever compare.

***

_Viviane_

"There has to be some place." Vivaine paces the study, back and forth, back and forth.

"There isn't." Her father says calmly. Viviane feels a little strange, seeing him in this context. Speaking to him as Captain Ranfiel, not as her father.

"You told Emmert last week you could get him reassigned to Longcric." Alright, maybe she isn't speaking to him as she would any other superior officer.

"And he was, along with several others. Longcric no longer needs recruits." His voice is weary, and he doesn't look up from the document on his desk.

"So you had several soldiers assigned to the border but didn't think I would want to go? When I've been trying to get reassigned there for years?"

"Viviane," He looks up at her, and she isn't sure if the look in his eyes is concern or impatience or both. "I know that you are frustrated that you cannot rise in rank but the fact is, unless this court goes to war it is very unlikely to happen. The only difference between being stationed here and at the border is that you are far more likely to be killed if you go away." He sighs and the look in his eyes softens.

"Is that why you won't reassign me?" Viviane asks. "Because you're afraid I might get myself killed?" She wants to rage, she wants to scream. She doesn't.

Her father stands up and rounds the desk to look at her.

"I don't want to risk losing you, snowflake." He says, and the love and worry in his voice breaks down all of Viviane's anger.

She lets him pull her in for a hug. Hugs him back, and holds on.

Squeezes her eyes shut to contain the tears already forming there.

Going to the border might put her in danger of dying, that much is true. But she's starting to think that staying in the city might be even more dangerous—that while she may not die, she might lose her life in a different, far worse way.

***

_Kallias_

"Hey asshole!" The shout comes from behind Kallias. He and Bokarri slow their steps along the outside of Itocia's wall so Danek can catch up with them. Rime, who has been sniffing around in the snow, bounds towards another white bear out on the lake, only to come back to Kallias's side in a moment.

"If this is about leaving you with Yerim yesterday, you're welcome." Kallias says as Danek gets close enough to speak at a normal volume. Bokarri snorts.

"Shut up." Danek says casually—although the slight color blooming on his face suggests the encounter was anything but casual. "I'm supposed to replace you. Risor wants to speak to you about something." He nods his head back the way he came.

"Did he say what?" Kallias asks.

"No, and I didn't ask. But it's probably important." Danek makes a shooing motion towards Kallias, who rolls his eyes as he turns back the way he came.

"So are you two finally official?" Bokarri's voice drifts from behind Kallias, followed by the sound of scuffling and muffled laughter.

Kallias trudges back towards the camp, Rime running back and forth between him and the bear on the frozen lake. Kallias can see the two of them sniffing around a small hole in the ice before Rime runs back towards Kallias.

"Go hunt, you big buffoon." Kallias says to the bear, who doesn't need to be told twice.

Kallias shakes his head at the bear and continues towards Risor's office.

The Lieutenant is waiting for him inside.

"Has your bear left you?" Risor asks as a way of greeting. Rime has a habit of sniffing around Risor's doorway before he is sternly reminded that he is not allowed inside.

"For the time being, sir." Kallias feels a small smile tug at his lips.

Risor's face grows more serious.

"I wanted to tell you that Major Qatnek will arrive here in a few days. We'll hold a formal gathering to greet him, where some of our soldiers will receive the Crystal Medal. And since you almost single handedly took down a vipera only a few days ago, I would like you to be one of them." He looks expectantly at Kallias, who is trying to process what he's been told.

"I… thank you, sir. I'm honored." Is all Kallias can think to say.

Risor smiles and rounds his desk to stand closer to Kallias.

"You earned it, kid." He claps Kallias on the back. "Now, aren't you supposed to be working?" He nods his head sternly towards the door.

"Yes sir." Kallias leaves the office and trudges back towards the wall in a haze.

"Well, what did he want?" Bokarri asks as soon as Kallias is within earshot.

"He said Major Qatnek is going to be here soon. And I'm to receive the Crystal Medal." Kallias calls back.

Bokarri snorts. Danek lets out a short laugh.

"No, really, what did he want?" Bokarri asks again, just as Kallias comes close enough that shouting will not be necessary.

"I told you." Kallias says.

They both stare at him in shock for a moment.

"He wants you to receive the Crystal Medal?" Danek asks after a short pause.

"So he claims." Kallias answers.

"K, don't take this the wrong way but… why?" Danek demands.

Kallias looks over at Bokarri. The older male is deep in thought; Bokarri has always been a strategist and a quick thinker.

"He said it was because of that vipera I took down, but I was hoping you could tell me." Kallias directs his words towards Bokarri.

He remains quiet for a while as he thinks.

"I don't think it has anything to do with the vipera. I think it has more to do with Risor and his supervisors wanting to guarantee the loyalties of one of the strongest magic users in this city." He finally says with a shrug.

Kallias nods slowly.

"I thought it might be something like that. Good to know I wasn't just being paranoid." He says. His thoughts turn inadvertently to his mother. He had always thought his mother was too paranoid, that there was no reason for all her worries. He had been wrong to doubt her.

Bokarri assesses him for a while.

"Truth be told I don't think you have to worry about it, K. It's not like this is the City of Ice. They just want to honor a strong magic user and make sure you don't turn against them anytime soon. Best case scenario, they want an excuse to start moving you up the ranks." Bokarri says. It is the last they speak of it as they continue their trek around Itocia's walls. They return to the camp after dark.

And Kallias has to admit that while there might be many ulterior motives for Risor to pin a medal on him, none of them are insidious. More so, he can feel it in his gut—Risor truly believes he deserves this medal, truly wants to honor him.

And it is a nice change of pace to finally feel like he has earned something for himself.


	7. 311 Years Before the Mountain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta read by goldbooksblack who makes sure I don't throw this out here with poor grammar. Gods bless you <3

_Kallias_

"Alright, K, this means you're officially a free male," Danek jokes as the bell tolls noon.

"Ah, freedom!" Kallias says as melodramatically as he can muster, before backing away from the post with a sarcastic bow.

"Jackass," mutters Yerim, who still can't hide the small grin on his face. "You would not believe the sweet relief it will be to be rid of you, K," He calls after Kallias. Kallias gives a rude gesture over his shoulder, smiling a little bit at the laughter that follows him down the steps.

As much as he likes it in Itocia, Kallias finds every year he looks more and more forward to this leave of his—two weeks in which he can do anything he likes as long as it's not strictly illegal.

Not that he's planning any such activities. But it does give him a chance to go home.

Because despite the friends he's made here, despite the training he's recieved, Kallias cannot consider Itocia home. Not while _she_ isn't here.

Thoughts of Viviane tie his stomach up in knots.

Will she have changed, in the year they have spent apart? She's always been keen on getting away from the city, perhaps she'd finally gotten her wish and been reassigned.

He reports to Risor at the small cabin in the middle of their camp.

"Ah, Kallias." Risor smiles at him. "Ready for your two weeks off?" He asks conversationally, but Kallias knows he's most likely trying to fish for information on his plans.

While he is an excellent superior officer it's lucky he didn't try out at spying. He would have been caught within seconds.

"I am, sir." Kallias says, and then adds so as to make Risor feel as if he's at least accomplished some digging into his personal life, "I suppose I'll be going home for a while. Check in on my mother, see how she's doing," The first thing Kallias did when he had the money was buy his mother a small house within the Third Wall of the City of Ice. It barely has enough room for her to move around in it but it is in the safer part of the city, and it is hers.

"Ah, well, give her my best," Risor replies, but then his expression grows a little bit more serious. Back to business, Kallias supposes.

"Kallias, I would like, on behalf of the Frozen Armies, to congratulate you on your progress of late. It's rare to see someone display such potential." Kallias nods his head, in gratitude and respect. "And it certainly doesn't ruin matters that you do possess an unusual amount of magic in your veins."

He's not sure how to answer that, but settles for a short "thank you, sir,".

Risor waves his hand in an impatient gesture.

"This is the reason I have decided that as of your return, two weeks from now, I will be promoting you to Sergeant. You'll be spending less time on patrols and more time working here with me," Risor's voice has a final tone to it, suggesting that he will take no bullshit or modesty.

"Thank you, sir. It's an honor." Kallias says, mostly because he doesn't know what else to say.

Risor smiles again, meaning the serious business is done, for now.

"There's still some paperwork to do, but it's almost all sorted out. You deserve this, Kallias." Risor says, with a seriousness that is rare for him when he isn't speaking as his commanding officer.

Kallias's head is reeling when he exits the small office.

Does he truly deserve this?

He enlisted for the army, just over twenty years ago, it was to escape the court of the city—the deceptions, lies, back stabbing…

Moving up the ranks had never been a part of that plan. The plan had simply been to escape, and see what happened next.

 _Well, this is what happened next_ , his mind tells him.

And he's almost happy about it.

***

_Viviane_

She is going to straight up _murder_ Sciamos.

_Isn't thirty-five years enough to prove myself? What more could I possibly do?_

Stomping back towards home, Viviane rips off the ridiculous helmet— _how is this thing supposed to protect your head if anything happens? It's useless_ —and almost throws it to the ground. In a moment of clarity she decides against it, knowing that Sciamos will only see it as further proof that she can't handle being reassigned.

Her father isn't much better—while he hasn't specifically asked Sciamos to keep her here, he has done nothing to push for her to get the opportunity she wants. The one she deserves.

She manages a small, calming breath before entering the foyer of her house.

Her father isn't home, thank the Cauldron, so Viviane is able to tear off her useless, decorative armor as loudly as she pleases.

She craves a bath. _Needs_ it.

Trying to decide whether she should carry her armor upstairs or just leave it, her laziness wins out.

She has barely closed her bedroom door when the clothes start coming off—her tunic is sweaty and disgusting and plastered to her skin. Her pants no better.

She runs the bath, impatience seeping into her as the minutes pass and she still isn't in there.

Deciding to damn it all to hell, she steps into the half full tub.

_Oh, sweet Mother._

She could stay there all day.

And indeed, the sun has sunken a fraction lower on the sky when she suddenly sits up ram rod straight, remembering what is so important about the date.

Kallias.

Her best friend is coming home.

Her bad mood gone, Viviane hurries out of the tub and puts on her airiest tunic and pants—she is most likely about to hike half an hour into the woods.

She thuds down the stairs, then catches sight of her discarded armor.

Right. It might be best to put that away before her father comes home.

But just seeing the damned thing has put a damper on her mood again.

She isn't quite as happy-go-lucky when she leaves home, even though she practically runs out the door.

And she most certainly isn't happy when she sees who waits for her outside.

The male seems to have a lot of difficulty taking no for an answer.

Anwir smiles, that smile that, despite his slimy personality, sets off some sort of butterflies in Viviane's stomach.

She still hasn't figured out if it's attraction or fear. Maybe both. _And would it really be so bad if she were attracted to Anwir? He's not exactly bad looking…_

"Viviane," Anwir interrupts her train of thought, and she is left once more with the distinct feeling that whatever thoughts she'd just had weren't… right.

Viviane doesn't bother with the polite smile she would offer anyone else. If it were any other male standing on her doorstep, she would have let him down gently. Kindly. But she has already tried that, and it hasn't done her any good.

And perhaps it is her anger at Sciamos, or her determination to see her best friend for the first time in a year, but Viviane feels much bolder, braver than she usually does.

Anwir needs to learn to back off.

"I don't have the time for this now Anwir, I have to…" She begins, in a tone that leaves no room for argument.

He argues anyway.

"I only wondered," he interrupts, "if you had given my question some more thought."

Oh, has she.

Her determination slips away, like a leaf on a wind. In its wake is a knot of anxiety that grows with every breath she takes.

His question has been eating her up from the inside. She knows what her answer is—an absolute _no_ —and yet every time she thinks of saying that, every time she _does_ say it, it seems like the wrong answer.

_You should say yes. You should say yes._

He's going to keep asking, even if she says no. Just like every time until now.

_So say yes._

"I have to think about it," Viviane manages to blurt out, before that treacherous voice within her mind forces her to answer with the last word she wants to.

Anwir blinks in surprise before schooling his reaction.

"Of course. I can see how it might be an important decision. By all means, take the time you need," He bows a little bit at the waist, taking her hand and bringing it to his lips.

She wants to jerk her hand away. She can't.

_It would be rude._

"Have a good day, Viviane," He whispers her name in a way that makes her skin crawl.

She stands there for a long moment after he leaves, trying to shake the feeling of his lips on her skin.

The bell of the clock tower strikes once and shakes Viviane out of her thoughts. It takes her a while to remember where she was going.

Kallias.

She pushes Anwir and his uncomfortable presence out of her mind, bounding down the road. She passes the gates of the Fourth and Third Walls in no time at all and reaches the woods.

The hike is a familiar one—she has spent far more time at their pond over the past ten years than the years before. Even with Kallias gone, the woods feel closer to him than most other places within the walls.

They also feel further away from Anwir and all he represents.

The trees ahead grow a little bit thinner. She can see the bridge, and the pond underneath it. But no Kallias.

She stops just short of the wards, feeling disappointed, and angry at herself for being disappointed.

She didn't really expect the first thing he did when he got home to be coming out here to see her. He has siblings in the city. He has a mother there, for goodness sake.

Still, she wants to see him, and she had hoped he felt the same.

She scans the pond again. He's probably at home, settling in again. He's only been in the city for about… 16 hours, if she's counted right.

Deciding she might as well wait for him, Viviane crosses the wards.

There's something different about them, something that seems to resist her—and when she's crossed that boundary…

Kallias. Sitting in his usual spot on the bridge. Watching her.

Smiling.

"I thought it might be a good idea to reinforce those wards. It's been a long while," He calls to her.

She doesn't answer. For a long while all she can do is stare at him.

Cauldron, she's missed him.

"V?" he says, no longer smiling. He jumps down from the bridge, jogging across the pond to where she stands. "Are you alright?" he asks her, gently placing his hand on her bicep and looking into her eyes.

But she can't bear for him to see the reason she's upset, how she feels.

She goes with part of the truth instead, hugging him hard around the middle.

"I missed you," She mutters into his chest.

He only hesitates a moment before wrapping his arms around her.

It's the safest she's felt in a long while.

***

_Kallias_

Any thought of telling Viviane his news evaporates when she hugs him.

It's been far too long since he's been this near her, and it takes a shocked moment for his mind to register it. And to realize that the appropriate response would be to hug back.

When he does hug her back though, they don't let go for a long while.

When she pulls back Kallias feels a little embarrassed, and then even more so when he realizes that she can see him blushing.

But she smiles up at him and even though he can tell there's something else haunting her thoughts he is so relieved to see her smile that he can't think of a way to ask her what's wrong again.

She turns away and for a panicked second Kallias thinks she's leaving. He's about to call after her when he realizes she's only inspecting the new wards.

"This is good work, Kallias." She says, impressed. Kallias tries to wrestle his relief under control—along with his beaming pride at her compliment. "Who taught you this?" She whirls around to face him, curiosity in her eyes.

"Oh, well," Kallias is a little taken aback by her question. "It's very basic warding, for the most part. It was part of the mandatory magical training in Itocia. I thought it was part of everyone's training?" He asks—after all, she's been in the army fifteen years longer than he has.

A rather cold look passes over Viviane's face before she locks whatever emotion that is away.

"I guess not," she says, in a voice that sounds a little too airy and bright for the occasion.

She doesn't acknowledge Kallias's questioning look, instead walking past him onto the ice.

"It's been a while since we skated here, hasn't it?" She says. Kallias debates whether to steer the conversation back to whatever is bothering her, but decides to let it go. For now.

"It has. I don't think I've really skated in a long while. You might have to teach me again." He says with a small quirk of his lips.

Viviane gives a sound that is somewhere between a snort and a laugh.

"I'm not walking back to the city just to come out here after dark carrying skates on my back." she raises a judgmental eyebrow at her friend.

"All right. How about tomorrow?" Kallias asks.

Viviane's amusement faded a little bit.

"I have a long shift tomorrow."

"Ah," Kallias feels his own excitement drain out of him.

"Sorry," She says in a low voice.

"No, don't apologize. You can't really help when your shifts are." He says, trying to sound supportive and not like all his hopes and dreams have been crushed.

Viviane sighs and looks down.

That catches Kallias's attention.

"V?" She looks up to meet his eyes. "What's bothering you?" He asks again.

She looks down again, shakes her head, looks up. Kallias feels a shot of alarm at the tears in her eyes.

"It's stupid. It's selfish and just really stupid." She mutters, wiping angrily at the tears. They freeze on her fingertips and she shakes them off.

Kallias walks towards her and gently takes her hands in his.

"You can still tell me. That's sort of what friends are for," he gives her a tentative smile.

She searches his eyes for a long moment before bracing herself for whatever it is she's about to say.

"Kallias, have you noticed how many of the units left at the city are filled with females from wealthy or important families?"

He's a little startled by the question. Truth be told he's never paid much attention to who gets left in the city—the only officer he's ever noticed is Viviane.

Her smile is a little bitter.

"I guess not. I just… I hate how it doesn't seem to matter how many times I apply to be transferred somewhere else, or how I prove myself, no matter what I do I'm… stuck. In the same place, the same position. Not to mention that my superior officer," she says the words in a bitter voice, "is entirely convinced that these females are too fragile to be sent to the border or any other turbulent area, something he has made very clear to me." She looks into his eyes, searching them for something.

Kallias thinks for a long while before he speaks.

"I can't really tell, of course. There are some females stationed in Itocia. But most of them are lesser faeries, or from poorer families, or both. And come to think of it, I don't think any of them have been promoted above the rank of officer. Some of them have been on the force for over a century and meanwhile I was the one that…" He stops suddenly, remembering that he hasn't given Viviane his news. He feels himself flush a little bit with embarrassment.

Viviane narrows her eyes at him, in a way that has him unsure if she's joking with it or not.

"What, Kallias?" She asks tensely.

"I uhm… I got promoted?" He says.

Viviane's face goes slack with shock, then something lights up in her eyes.

"That's amazing, Kallias!" She says, happy for him. Even though Kallias can tell the words are a little bit forced. And awkward, with the conversation they've just had.

"Yeah, I guess. I feel a little less awesome about it now that I realize that they may well have overlooked some of the best candidates for the job." Kallias says, thinking back to Otera's strategizing at their last siege drill. Every siege drill he remembers, in fact.

"No! Kallias no don't…" Viviane sighs, rubbing the bridge of her nose with her fingers. "Can we talk about something else?" Viviane pleads with him.

And by the Cauldron, he is powerless to resist her.

"All right, what should we talk about? Fashion? The solstice? How much we hate everyone at that court?" He nods his head towards the City of Ice, trying to lighten the mood a little bit.

Viviane smiles and rolls her eyes.

"I think we've had _that_ conversation at least a dozen times. How's Rime?"


	8. 304 Years Before the Mountain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to post this last night. Whoops!
> 
> Beta read by goldbooksblack <3

_Kallias_

Cauldron damn him, it's only been three months and he's missed her.

Kallias can't help the smile that comes over his face when he passes the wards of their pond and sees Viviane on the ice. She stands at the center of the pond, turning in slow circles on her skates with her eyes closed and head raised towards the sky.

"I'm curious—do you always spend this much time here or is it just when I'm around?" He greets her as he walks onto the ice. Damn, he forgot his skates.

Her eyes open and she smiles at the sight of him.

That smile will always be his undoing.

"Kal!" She calls as she skates over to him and launches herself at him. Now he's glad that he's wearing his boots, or her assault would have knocked them both over. With the mess his feelings already are the last thing he needs is the knowledge of what her body would feel like on top of his.

He does, however, hug her back. Even with his unrelenting crush and the heat of her body soaking through the twelve or so layers between them, he is happy to see his best friend.

"Hi," he laughs softly into her hair, breathing in her scent. One of the things about her that has always calmed him is the way her hair smells.

He stops that train of thought before it gets any creepier.

"Wait," She pulls back to look at him suspiciously. "You're back early. What happened?"

"It's nothing bad, I promise." He hurries to soothe her at her worried look. "I… well, I got promoted." He says rather awkwardly.

She can't hide the small flash of shock and hurt on her face.

It's been a rather sore subject between them for the last seven years now. He knows how much it angers her that despite everything she does, not once has she been moved up in rank. All while she watches the males in her life reap the benefits of their service.

And despite all that she's still been the most supportive person he knows, ever from that first promotion.

"So that makes what, now? Lieutenant?" She asks with a rather fake smile plastered onto her face.

"Second Lieutenant. I'm here as ah," he clears his throat, feeling that treacherous blush creep up his face. "I'm actually being transferred here. Your father is now officially my commanding officer." He looks up at her, gauging her reaction.

Her initial surprise is soon replaced by unease.

"Kal, are you sure that's a good idea?" He feels his stomach plummet.

"I… I don't really… do you not, I mean, would you rather I—" He tries to form the words to ask her— _would you rather I stay away_ —but just asking it is too painful when he's not sure he can handle the answer.

"What? Kal, oh no! That's not what I…" She stops, squeezes her eyes shut, then opens them to fix him with an intense stare. "I just mean that… things around here haven't changed much. They haven't changed at all, really. The reason you left in the first place was because you weren't safe here and I don't want you to be in danger, and I realize how stupid that sounds when we're both in the army but I just…" the words rush out of her and she's babbling at this point, no longer able to meet his gaze.

He gently lifts his hands to place them on either side of her face. She falls silent and looks at him.

"I will be alright. I promise you. The two main reasons I had to go were the fact that I couldn't defend myself and I had no support. But both of those things have changed. I can take care of myself now and even when I can't, I have some high ranking military personnel backing me up." She smiles slightly at that.

"Let me guess, is it because you're a kiss ass?" She asks him. He huffs out a laugh.

"Being a kiss ass isn't such a bad thing, V." He pulls her in for another hug, before looking into her eyes with her face between his hands and the word _kiss_ leaving her mouth make him do something incredibly stupid.

She hugs him back, seemingly consoled for the moment.

"I guess. But I don't think that'll work on my father." She sighs. "I am happy to have you back, though." He can hear the smile in her voice and can't help a smile of his own from forming.

"I'm happy to be back," He mumbles.

***

His mother's house is quiet when he enters. But then, she isn't exactly expecting him.

"Mother?" He calls out, hoping she's home. He knows she rarely leaves the house except for work, but it would be a shame if the only time he came by was the time she was at the market. Although she can certainly use the social interaction.

He still has a couple of hours before he's meant to report to Ranfiel, so he decides to clean up the small kitchen area a little bit. While she has mostly worked in kitchens her whole life she has never been the tidiest. And she tends to forget matters that ought to be basic hygiene, such as throwing out spoilt leftovers.

He's done the dishes and is halfway through scrubbing down the counter when the door opens. His mother beats her boots against the outside wall, a habit she's developed from staying so long in Winter, and stumbles inside with something that looks like a hand knitted bag on her arm. Kallias can see the petals of a hailstorm flower peeking out of the bag.

Her face goes slack when she sees her son, her hand flies to her chest. It's a long moment before she steps forward with her arms outreached.

Kallias smiles and embraces his mother.

"Oh, my darling boy. I didn't expect to see you back here so soon!" She pats his cheeks, looking him over for signs of injury out of habit—something she started doing once he joined the army. He feels a small twinge of guilt at the evident worry in her eyes.

"I'm all right mother." He assures her before taking the bag from her arm and setting it on the kitchen table. Not that he thinks the words will stop her from worrying.

"How come you're home again so soon? Oh, darling you're not in trouble are you?" She whispers the last words, raising her shields. And after almost thirty years in the army he realizes just how weak those shields are—sees from the strain on her face how much those small defenses drain her.

And he is grateful that she is willing to push herself so greatly to ensure his safety.

He raises his own shields around the room, reaching to clasp his mother's hands as reassuringly as he can.

"No, mother. I'm being transferred here on a promotion. I'll be working with Captain Ranfiel, for the most part." He smiles at her.

But her frown only deepens.

"Captain Ranfiel?" She asks, keeping a close eye on him as he nods. "Isn't he the father of that girl you spend far too much time with?"

"I wouldn't really say far too much time, mother…" Kallias begins, feeling himself blush.

His mother closes her eyes and sighs.

"Kallias, is it really a good idea for you to be so close to her?" She asks him.

"Mother, I know you worry about me. And I know it's because you love me but you need to realize that I'm not just some defenseless kid anymore. I've spent the last thirty years with the army training physically and magically not to mention that…" but she cuts him off.

"You think just because you have more control over your magic means you're suddenly no longer in danger?" She asks sharply, her eyes blazing with anger. "Your father had centuries of training on his side and he was executed without fair trial. Your cousin Nahien was powerful and well connected as well as being Heir. He was murdered out in these streets." She pauses for breath, her anger softening a fraction. "My darling boy, this city isn't safe for anyone as powerful as you." She grimaces slightly at his expression. "I'm sorry. But I don't like the idea of you working with someone who's known for speaking out and causing trouble. He might be favored by this High Lord but there's…" She pauses and glances fearfully towards the window.

Kallias casts a quick warding spell over it, so no one looking through will see anyone inside.

His mother continues. "There have been… rumors. Some chatter, and tension, in the air. Things that would suggest… suggest that a shift in power is close." She whispers the last words and gives him a meaningful look.

Kallias knows what she means—there have been rumors even as far as Itocia of the High Lord's inability to rule. He's grown ill, some say. Old, say others. Weak, those who dare.

It's why Kallias has focused so much on the friends he makes within the army—being a kiss ass, as Viviane put it. The more allies he has in the ranks the less he has to worry about court.

Only, the City of Ice has always been a little different. Here, the army is part of court, a large, powerful group of participants in the games of politics but ultimately as vulnerable as anyone else.

It's what has his mother so worried about him. It's the reason he worries about himself.

What he hasn't told anyone yet is that he had a choice in the matter—he was given a choice between staying in the relative safety of Itocia with his promotion or moving to the City of Ice, to work with Captain Ranfiel.

And in the end he chose Viviane.

He's starting to wonder if that makes him an absolute idiot.

Because it can't be that simple. Working with her father may give him an excuse to be around her more often but it may also prove to be fatal to them both. He shudders to think what the less honorable members of court might think of if they knew his feelings for her.

Especially if the ice beneath their feet is about to shift.

"Mother, I…" He doesn't know what to say. He doesn't know what to do. Although perhaps—"I don't know what to do," He whispers to her, putting his head in his hands.

She puts a hand on his shoulder.

"I think you're right, I think I might have made a mistake coming here. But I can't undo it. And I…" He hesitates, wondering if he should tell his mother about Viviane—about his feelings for her.

She seems to read his mind.

"It's about that girl isn't it? Ranfiel's daughter." His mother says gently.

Kallias nods glumly.

"Mother, I… I'm in love with her. I truly am. Have been for Cauldron knows how long. And I don't know what to do. There are people here… at this court who aren't… particularly fond of me and I don't know… You're right, I don't know what might happen if anyone finds out. And that's not even mentioning the fact that she doesn't even know…" He huffs out a humorless laugh, feeling tears pool in his eyes.

It's been a long while since he cried.

His mother just pulls him into her arms and lets him hold on to her.

It's also been a while since he let her see him upset. He's spent so long worrying about what might happen if she knows how distraught he is, how shaken, that it might make her even more anxious. More paranoid.

Turns out she's anything but. She's calm and collected as she soothes him.

"My darling boy," She sighs when his crying quiets down. "I'm sorry that you've been going through all of this. But it seems to me that you are waiting for something that isn't all that likely to happen." She smiles sadly at him. "And missing out on so much in return."

Kallias looks away. He doesn't think his mother needs to know that he hasn't been _missing out_ , so to speak. After a few drinks, unrequited love usually starts to sound like a ridiculous reason to let the finer things in life pass him by.

"Not that it matters much, I'm afraid, who you might find yourself interested in. Because like you said yourself, this isn't a safe place for someone like you to be in love." She looks pained as she says it.

"So what then? I can't exactly just stop being in love with her. Thirty years of staying away did nothing and besides, she's Ranfiel's daughter. I can't exactly avoid her now." Kallias says rather glumly.

His mother rubs his forearms a little bit before she says, as gently as she can: "No, but you can let her go."

***

_Viviane_

Something has changed in his demeanor when he comes to report to her father later.

She can see it in the set of his shoulders and the way he can't seem to meet her gaze. Her stomach drops at the thought of what might have caused him to act this way towards her now.

He's heard of Anwir's advances.

Of the question he's asked her, time and time again these past few years. Dread settles over her as Kallias walks past her with barely a glance, towards her father's study.

She'll have to explain to him. That she wants nothing to do with Anwir, even though her thoughts always turn rather strange around him and she'd found herself considering the possibility more than once in his presence…

Although, maybe it would be best not to mention that part.

***

_Kallias_

Despite knowing Viviane for over half a century Kallias has never been inside her home. Their friendship is a secret they try as hard as they can to conceal, although he's certain her father must know as much of it as his mother does.

But outside their immediate families, they've kept it a secret—to the point where they've never seen each other's living conditions. First, he had lived in his father's estate, where he had the feeling no guests were welcome unless invited by Havier personally. After that, things had grown more perilous and visits were out of the question.

He has always known that Ranfiel was well paid—he was First Lieutenant when Kallias and Viviane first met. Kallias, holding a similar position himself now, can vouch for the salary being generous. On top of that Viviane told him, some years and years ago, that her mother had come from a rich family.

Given that, he expected more splendor.

Like Havier's estate, Viviane's home is inside the Fourth Wall, in the richer part of the city. But while Havier had rooms upon rooms that went unused, Viviane's home is smaller. Kallias almost doesn't notice it between the mansion- and manor-like buildings surrounding it.

It's a two story house made of dark gray stone, most likely mined in the mountains at the border. The windows are large and beautifully embroidered curtains provide privacy from neighbors while still letting in the light.

And Kallias has the most surreal experience when Viviane greets him at the door, as if this is something he should have been doing all along.

He can't think like that anymore. He can't.

Viviane lets him inside the large foyer. On one side is a wardrobe, standing open to reveal fur lined coats and knitted sweaters. On the other wall is a large mirror, on either side of which is an armor stand.

"It's through here," Viviane walks with him towards the inner end of the house. He tries not to look too much her way, tries to will his heart to calm as he hears her voice.

_Let her go_. Easier said than done.

She pauses outside a closed door, turning to him and looking into his eyes. He is embarrassed of how his heart stutters at that small gesture.

She gives him a meaningful look, one that he's only seen a handful of times, given how seldom they meet outside the safety of their pond, but his mind seems to grasp the meaning of none the less.

_Wards._

He quickly raises his mental wards, enclosing them in a small bubble of privacy.

"I need to talk to you, after this." She says with certain urgency in her tone. In her eyes.

_Let her go, let her go_ … damn it.

"Of course," He answers. "What's it about?"

"You'll find out, I guess. Just… promise you'll talk to me, all right?" Her eyes are so pleading that it pulls at his heart.

"I'll always talk to you if that's what you need, V." He reassures her. And feels his heart soar again when she smiles at him.

She turns to leave, but something makes him reach forward, not willing to let the moment go.

"V, I need to ask you though…" He sees an almost pained look cross her face, and he momentarily forgets whatever question he came up with as an excuse to keep her here longer.

Whatever she's about to tell him later, she seems certain he won't like it.

"V, why do you always ask me to raise wards instead of doing it yourself? I'm not complaining, or anything," he hurries to add when her face becomes confused. "It's just… I've sort of noticed you rarely…" He trails off, embarrassed of his question.

"Oh. That. Well…" She grimaces slightly, in annoyance. "I've just never been really good at protective spells like these. Or any protective spells for that matter." She shrugs, not meeting his eyes.

"Oh," Kallias falls silent. It wasn't really an answer he'd anticipated. "You know…" he starts, an idea in mind. "I could teach you." He offers.

_Let her go. You can let her go_. But, Cauldron damn him, he really can't.

"Oh. I suppose that's not such a bad idea. I mean, but I don't want to trouble you, Kal…"

"Think of it as me repaying a debt." He smiles at her, trying to cut through the awkwardness between them. "You taught me to skate almost half a century ago and it suddenly occurred to me that I've never actually repaid you for that." They both laugh a little bit at that.

And in some selfish corner of his heart, Kallias is glad that he doesn't have the strength to let her go. He loves the sound of her laughter too much for that.

Her smile softens and she looks towards the closed door.

"He's probably waiting for you. You should get going." She says softly. She places a hand on his shoulder and squeezes, then drops it back down to her side.

Kallias lets the wards drop, gives Viviane a small smile, and opens the door to Ranfiel's study.

Kallias isn't sure what he expected. He's seen the Captain from afar, at large public events and during some short visits he made to Itocia in the decade since he was appointed. All Kallias has ever been able to discern was that the male has a large frame and a beard.

Now, standing face to face with him, Kallias can see quite a bit of Viviane in him. In the blue of his eyes. The shape of his nose.

And in the pointed glare he receives the moment he closes the door.

"Be quiet with that, would you? I'm busy." He says gruffly before turning his attention back to the paper in his hand.

Kallias is about to apologize when he realizes that might break the rule of 'being quiet'. He decides to wait instead.

It takes a long while before Ranfiel looks up to take Kallias in.

"You must be Kallias." He says in a voice that suggests he will tolerate no nonsense.

"Yes, sir." Kallias responds automatically. He cringes inwardly as he sees the disapproval in Ranfiel's eyes.

It appears the male doesn't like him all that much.

"Well, Kallias, I don't know what you think you're in for here in the city but I can tell you that you will not be moving up the ranks as quickly as you did out on the border. Nothing exciting ever happens here, unless you count politics as something exciting and those backstabbing assholes at court don't have the power to move you up in rank, no matter how you try to kiss their asses."

"Uhm… understood. Sir" Kallias says rather awkwardly.

"For now, I have nothing for you. You'll report here again tomorrow, same time." Ranfiel says without breaking stride.

"Yes sir." Kallias replies, a little bit relieved to be given an easy, understandable task.

Ranfiel just gives him that disapproving look again before looking back down at his paper and waving his hand in a sign of dismissal.

Kallias leaves and makes sure to close the door quietly behind him.

Viviane is propped against the opposite wall, an eyebrow raised in question. She seems calm enough, but the bouncing of her foot tells a different story.

"I take it that went well." She says in a low, light voice, a smile on her face.

Kallias hesitates only a moment before throwing his shield around them.

"V, you said you wanted to talk?" He prods gently.

The smile slowly dies as she looks down at her feet. When she looks up again the lost look in her eyes tugs at Kallias's heart.

"I don't know how much you've heard about this but… Anwir…" Kallias automatically tenses up at the name.

If that vile male has threatened her, if he's found out what she means to Kallias, he might very well say to hell with it all and kill him.

Viviane closes her eyes and pauses for a moment before continuing. "He's asked me to marry him."

The world stops.

Too many thoughts, too many emotions, run through Kallias at a speed he would not have thought possible. Disbelief. Confusion. Anger. Dread.

Heartache.

And fear, once he realizes what this might well mean.

"What…" He begins, but his voice sounds too rough. He clears his throat and wills his voice to calm before he tries again. "When did he…" He looks up at her to see the pained expression on Viviane's face.

"He's been asking me for a few months. And he's been making up excuses to court me for almost two decades. I've accompanied him to the Winter Solstice ball for years now."

Twenty years. She's kept this a secret from him for twenty years.

He can't help but feel a little bit hurt by that.

"Wait, what do you mean, has been asking you? You haven't given him an answer yet?" Kallias almost feels new hope bloom in his chest at the thought.

"No, I've been putting it off. I'm trying to turn him down. Trying to find the right way to turn him down," Kallias feels his too tight chest loosen up at those words, "But I don't know how. There doesn't seem to be one."

"V…" Kallias sighs through his nose, "If he's been hanging around you for years, why haven't you told me?" He pleads, trying to understand why she would keep something like this from him for so long.

From the angry flash in her eyes it was the wrong thing to say.

"I didn't tell you because you're not a female, Kallias," She says forcefully, nearly spitting the words out, surprising Kallias. "Because you have no idea what it's like when a powerful, influential male who has a history of being a sore loser asks for something like this, when you're not willing to give it. Every Solstice I turn him down for a dance I have to wonder 'is this something that will get me killed?'" She pauses for a moment, taking in a shaking breath, angrily brushing a tear from her eye. "'Or worse?'" She continues softly, squeezing her eyelids together to prevent the tears from falling. They do anyway.

Kallias's reaction is a reflex.

He reaches for her, gently taking hold of her upper arms before taking her into his arms.

"V, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, that was an unfair question." He murmurs into her hair, moving his hands in soothing strokes down her back. Her hands move to his back and she squeezes tight.

She only stays in his embrace for a few moments, pulling back to look up at Kallias with almost dry eyes.

"I just wish…" Kallias starts, but gets distracted for a moment by a tear still clinging to her cheek. He reaches forward and gently wipes it away. "I wish I could have been here for you more." He sighs, looking away in shame.

Viviane sighs as well before plastering a smile on her face.

"You're here now." She says confidently.

Kallias attempts a smile himself.

"Bet you three coppers you'll be begging me to leave come Solstice." He says, trying to lighten the mood.

Her fake smile is momentarily replaced by a real one, and the light in her eyes nearly brings Kallias to his knees.

And he is so damn aware of how close they are standing.

But he can't help but think of his sneaking suspicion from earlier, the one that entered his mind when Viviane told him she was being pursued by Anwir.

"I should probably get back home to Mother." Kallias says in a low voice, letting his arms drop from her body and his shields from around them.

Viviane nods and gives him a brave smile.

He hesitates for a moment, silently asking her through whatever connection of unending friendship allows them to communicate so well without using words.

_Will you be alright?_

She rolls her eyes slightly.

_I'll be fine. Now get going._

He gives her a small bow, a sarcastic indication of the words _as you wish, my lady_. Then he's on his way.

He's barely out the door when his suspicion, his worry, penetrates whatever peace of mind Viviane seems to incite in him.

He realizes that to most this particular worry might seem like paranoia. He certainly hopes it's only paranoia.

But he has ignored his mother's worries on those grounds too often to doubt his gut instinct now.

Because he cannot shake the feeling that Anwir's infatuation with Viviane has to do with him.

At Kallias's arrival, Anwir seemed determined to win him over to his side. The same thing happened again with Havier's death, but then with the added incentive of staying with his siblings.

But he has been surprisingly quiet since Kallias joined the army. A large part of him hoped it was the mixture of distance and the threat of starting trouble with a powerful military organization.

But perhaps Anwir's sights have been elsewhere. Perhaps he decided a long time ago that the best way to get to Kallias wasn't through his power, or his siblings.

But through Viviane.

Whether that is the reason for Anwir's advances or if the older male is simply infatuated with Viviane—something Kallias can understand perfectly—Kallias knows that Anwir's interest cannot lead to anything good.


	9. 304 Years Before the Mountain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I was late last week I'll be early this time, that evens out... right?  
> Beta read by goldbooksblack <3

_Viviane_

"Your father doesn't like me much, does he?" Kallias asks after the fifth day Ranfiel sends him away without a task. The two of them are standing in the foyer of Viviane's house.

"He'll come around." Viviane says, albeit feeling a little bit guilty knowing that her father's prejudice is keeping him from seeing that Kallias is in fact a good male.

Things have been a little tense between them since Viviane's outburst. Every now and again she'll notice him giving her curious, worried glances, as if he's afraid she's going to blow again at any moment.

It annoys her to no end.

But she's still glad she told him. She hadn't realized how much she needed to talk to her best friend about that until she did. Her whole being feels somehow lighter.

And she believes that once he gets over the shock it will only serve to bring them closer, when disdain for Anwir is something they share.

"I hope so, because if I don't get an assignment soon I will go out of my mind." Kallias rubs the back of his neck as he says it, glancing at his coat but not, Viviane notices, raising shields around them.

It seems that while they talk way more outside their pond than they used to, he doesn't raise his shields as much. It's almost as if her revelation has made him worry less about who knows of their friendship.

"When does your shift start?" He turns to look at her.

"In an hour. Which reminds me, I should probably get going." She sighs as she thinks of the useless hours ahead of her.

"I can walk with you, if you'd like," Kallias offers, an amused smile on his face.

Viviane narrows her eyes slightly.

"Are you making fun of me, Kallias?" She asks accusingly. He struggles to hide the smile.

"Nope." He replies, then presses his lips together.

Viviane can feel her own treacherous face breaking out into a smile.

She pushes his shoulder lightly.

"I'm going to change, I'll be right back. You can wait here if you want." She says, then runs up to her room.

Cauldron, things seem… different, between them. And not in a bad way. Yes, there's a little bit of tension, but sometimes that tension feels almost… exciting. It's something she hadn't dared give too much thought towards.

Viviane can't help the giddy smile as she hurries to put on her armor.

Kallias is still waiting when she gets downstairs, smiling slightly up at her.

"Alright then, let's go." He says and offers his arm rather mockingly.

"Thank you kind sir," Viviane says in a dry voice as she takes his arm and opens the front door.

There's a certain thrill to walking beside Kallias in daylight. Their friendship has been such a closely guarded secret for so long, with so few knowing. It is refreshing to almost shout out to the world that the male beside her is her best friend.

But it seems the world is determined to see her unhappy.

Just as they pass the corner on Viviane's home street they are met with a figure Viviane has learned to avoid at all costs.

Anwir.

She feels Kallias tense up beside her as well and is about to drag him as silently as possible back in the direction they came when Anwir turns his head and meets her eyes.

Too late.

She tightens her hand on Kallias's arm as she hurriedly looks away, searching for anything that might make a convincing excuse…

Her eyes land on Kallias, who is looking very decidedly at the clock tower to their right.

"We should hurry, shouldn't we?" He says to her. She nods and plays along, praying that Anwir won't stop them as they pick up their pace.

But prayers have never done much good where Anwir is concerned.

"Viviane. What a pleasant surprise." He gives her a friendly smile but his eyes pass between the two of them in a look Viviane might almost call calculating.

"Anwir. It's been a while. I'm very sorry but I'm in a hurry, I'll have to talk to you later," Viviane replies smoothly, much to her own surprise.

It's almost as if the strange, half-drunken state of mind Anwir's presence seems to induce is countered by Kallias's presence.

Whereas Anwir seems to make her mind bend backwards on itself trying to explain away the uncomfortable, unsafe way he makes her feel, ultimately leaving her dizzy and confused… Kallias's presence sharpens her mind, bringing everything to clarity. As if she is only truly awake when he is near.

She's never noticed that before. Never noticed how grateful she is to have him in her life.

Anwir just smiles at her, a smile that would usually leave her feeling almost attracted to the older male, but now only leaves a bad taste in her mouth.

"Of course." He glances at Kallias again and walks away.

Still, Viviane pulls Kallias along and doesn't let the tension seep from her muscles until they have turned another corner and are out of Anwir's sight.

Kallias, she notices, doesn't relax until she does.

"Are you alright?" He asks, concerned. Viviane is surprisingly touched by his concern. The only people who've taken her seriously before regarding these feelings of being unsafe are her sister and Mor.

It's refreshing to have someone believe her who shows up more than once a decade.

And knowing that Kallias is sticking around this time evokes a happiness in Viviane's gut that she can't quite explain.

And doesn't really want to.

***

_Kallias_

Kallias had expected to feel angry at Anwir when he faced him again. He just hadn't quite expectedf the all consuming _rage_ that coursed through his veins at the sight of the older male.

How dare he treat Viviane with such disrespect? How dare he make her feel unsafe and afraid, his kind, bold, brave Viviane…

_Not his._

Cauldron, he's such a mess.

He walks Viviane all the way to the her post at the Third Wall, instead of parting ways by his street.

He is more convinced now than he was before that Anwir's advances towards Viviane are a direct cut at Kallias. He hasn't told Viviane—she'd either think he was paranoid and egoistical or she'd think he's right and freak out. Neither of which is an option.

But knowing that has set him free in a way. He has always tried to keep their friendship a secret, so that she would never be used against him in some twisted power play, but knowing that the worst has come—that Anwir knows—means he has no more to fear on that front.

Viviane turns to him just before they come to the guard station at the outer wall.

"Sorry, no friends and or family allowed from this point on." She says with a sad smile.

"No worries. I suppose I'll see you soon?" The words come out as a question even though they both know he'll be reporting to her house every day, just as he has so far.

"I'll see you soon, Kallias." She reassures him before walking over to the station.

***

_Viviane_

It happens only a month after Kallias comes back.

Viviane has enjoyed herself more in the city these past weeks more than she has in years. She has her best friend. And for the first time in what seems like a long time she isn't afraid.

She's at the market when there is a disturbance in the earth, as if the very foundations of the court are being shaken.

And even though Viviane has never felt anything like it, has never experienced this shift, she recognizes it from her father's descriptions, from the shocked looks of the people around her in the street.

From the sudden drain of power in her own veins.

The High Lord is dead.

She sprints up the street, turning left and right at dangerous speeds. She feels her magic return to her gradually and uses it to push her feet faster. She is at her house in moments.

She thuds into the foyer, not entirely sure what she's expecting.

Her father is buckling on his cloak, the one that is technically part of his uniform but he rarely takes out except for difficult business and formal occasions. Viviane has no doubt which one this counts as.

He looks up when she enters and some tension leaves his shoulders.

"When does your next shift start?" He asks while he hurriedly fastens his belt.

"Three hours. Sciamos will most likely expect us to pull double duty if things grow unsettled." Viviane says. Her father just nods his head and pulls on his boots, fumbling a little with the clasps in his hurry.

"Alright. I don't know the situation yet but I'm guessing there won't be much disturbance in the streets. Still, try to keep indoors if you can. If something happens, I don't want you in harm's way." He has finished buckling his boots and is giving Viviane a very intense look. She swallows her automatic reply, that she's a soldier and can damn well take care of herself. It won't make her father worry less. She just nods instead.

He gives her a brief, tense smile.

"I'll let you know as soon as I know what's going on," He promises. Then he's disappeared out the door.

***

_Kallias_

After making sure his mother is alright Kallias's first thought is of Viviane.

His mother sees the panicked look in his eye and tells him to go—she'll be fine on her own, he won't be fine until he knows Viviane is.

He knows her schedule and knows that she'll most likely be at home now, and so the moment he steps outside he takes off for her house. His power is already returning to him and he wills himself to go faster, push harder.

He turns the corner on Viviane's street and sees Ranfiel closing the door behind him, catches him at the start of the walkway.

"Sir." He manages to say in an almost normal tone of voice, despite the festering panic inside him.

Ranfiel just takes one disapproving look at him.

"I won't be needing you help for this, Kallias, you are dismissed, now let me…" He starts.

But the panic inside Kallias has built up to a breaking point, at which he does something he never would have considered before.

He interrupts his commanding officer.

"Just, just tell me sir, is she alright?" He almost—almost—regrets the words as soon as they leave his mouth, as he hears the desperation in them himself.

But they make Ranfiel stop.

"Yes." He says, a strange look in his eye as he watches Kallias relax slightly. "She's alright," He then walks past Kallias, but hesitates.

"It might do you some good to come with me for this, you know." Ranfiel says, some sort of guarded offer in his voice.

Kallias is taken aback by that.

"I thought you just said you wouldn't need me there? Sir." Kallias hurries to add the last word.

"Well, that's true. Like I said, this would be for your sake. Not mine." Ranfiel responds.

In the weeks he has been home in the city, not once has Ranfiel given Kallias an assignment. Kallias knows that this is due to the older male's distaste for him, as much as Viviane may try to claim it isn't.

The lack of purpose has left him restless and crabby, even though he knows he could have had it worse—Ranfiel could have given him longwinded, meaningless tasks instead, keeping him busy with something useless.

Still, Kallias has longed for something to do, anything that gives him a clear cut purpose. And now Ranfiel is offering just that.

"I'll go with you, sir." Kallias says, trying and sort of failing to hide the relief in his voice.

Ranfiel just nods, no change in his expression, and marches off towards the Winter Palace with Kallias following close behind.

While Kallias has been to almost every area of the City of Ice, the one place he has never been allowed, never dared set foot, is inside the Fifth Wall.

The guards at the gate wear dark gray uniforms with a white star on their breast, the official colors of the royal guard. The six males seem tense and on edge—Kallias can't blame them. They watch Ranfiel and Kallias like hawks. Kallias has no doubt they would strike down either him or the Captain without hesitation at the first sign of trouble.

But Ranfiel nods towards them and he and Kallias are allowed to pass, as are the two generals who enter only a few steps behind them. Kallias has to jump out of the way as they rush past, panicked voices rising higher as they argue heatedly.

But despite the tension buzzing in the air, Kallias cannot help savoring how, for the first time in his life, he has an unhindered view of the Winter Palace.

If he ever thought Havier's estate was big, he doesn't anymore. Not after taking in the sheer size of the Palace—the number of towers, arches, bridges and courtyards is dizzying. He can't imagine anyone needing to live in such an obscenely large place.

He cannot tell from this distance if they white, nearly opaque walls are made of ice or white stone.

The walkway towards the front door is lined with exquisitely carved frozen lanterns, very similar to the ones erected on the frozen lakes for the Solstice celebrations. It is bright out now but Kallias can imagine what the walk would look like at night—lit up from both the lanterns and the aurora borealis twisting outwards from the highest spire of the palace.

That is one thing he has learned in the last half a century. Whatever they are, the dancing lights of Winter either emanate from the Palace of they flock to it.

There are six more guards stationed at the front entrance. They give Kallias and Ranfiel the same strange look as the first set, but do nothing to stop them.

It occurs to Kallias that they must be expected.

The inside of the palace is breathtaking as the outside, and Kallias nearly forgets why they are here. It seems the walls are indeed made of ice, enchanted to never melt. Ice sculptures stand in every corner, most likely in the likeness of past High Lords. The walls have been carved into beautiful scenes from the history of Prythian and the Winter Court—the Mother with the Cauldron in her hands, the division of Prythian into its seven Courts, the first High Lord, the Palace he had built for himself and his descendants.

But he remembers their purpose again when he hears the rushed footsteps and tense voices drifting down the hallway. Kallias reins in his ogling.

Ranfiel pays no heed to the ornate walls or the exquisite sculptures, but strides ahead with purpose.

They reach a large double door at the end of a corridor, and Ranfiel nods to the guard on one side before greeting the other by name. Both cast a curious glance towards Kallias but say nothing.

Kallias has never been inside a proper war room—the one in Itocia is old and hasn't been put to use in decades. It is kept mostly as a token of respect towards the High Lord, and on the off chance that the Winter Court be dragged into a war. Something that the troops and citizens of Itocia have always doubted.

The war room at the Winter Palace is utter chaos. The round table at the center, painted with a map of Prythian, has papers and texts sprawled over the far end of it—two males in decorative uniforms are furiously passing the papers back and forth, pointing something out to each other. Another male is attempting to rearrange the army figurines that have clearly been pushed to the side, while telling the two males off. Several groups of twos and threes are strewn throughout the room, discussing franticly among themselves.

Standing along the walls are guards, clearly meant to stand there at ease but failing due to the high levels of tension and uncertainty in the room.

Messengers scurry back and forth through side doors, carrying scrolls or whispering furiously in the ears of whoever they bear messages to.

The room is in too much panic to pay attention to their arrival, although Kallias can tell a few of them have noticed. One male excuses himself from his group and approaches Ranfiel.

"Captain," He starts but hesitates when he sees Kallias standing beside him.

"Kimech, his is my Lieutenant. Kallias, if you could give us some privacy?" Ranfiel says in a tone that suggests it's not a request.

Kallias just nods his head and mumbles "sir" before backing up a few steps to stand closer to the wall, where it is easier to assess the situation.

It is in that position that he notices another person leaning against the wall next to one of the side doors. A person with short white hair and blue eyes that mirror his own.

Nidanni.

Their eyes lock for a moment before Nidanni inclines his head towards the door and the service corridor beyond. Then he disappears through.

Kallias moves as quietly and discretely as he can towards the door, something that is quite easy with the amount of chatter and panic in the air.

He sees Nidanni take a right turn at the end of the corridor, and after a quick glance behind him, Kallias follows.

When he turns the corner Nidanni is nowhere to be seen, but Kallias knows these tricks by now. Careful to step in the right spot, he uses a concentrated amount of his magic to freeze the small puddle from the floor to the sole of his shoe.

He then hides in the first alcove he finds, bending down in a pretence of lacing up his boots.

_Etvor is High Lord. Anwir has him in his pocket. He expects to become emissary. I don't doubt him._

Kallias stares at the note for a long while before tearing it to pieces, then fastening those pieces back to the sole of his shoe.

He returns to the war room, which is still locked in the same frenzy it was earlier.

Ranfiel is on the other side of the room, still talking to Kimech. He notices Kallias's enterance but says nothing, instead focusing back on his conversation. That's about all Kallias can make out before the room is blocked by a figure standing in front of him.

"If I didn't know better, Kallias, I'd say you were snooping." Anwir says with a teasing smile.

"Searching for a bathroom," Kallias replies shortly, then attempts to step past Anwir.

Anwir puts is hand casually on the doorframe, blocking Kallias's exit.

"I have to say, Kallias, I'm quite impressed by how far you've come in these past decades. Looks like you didn't need my help to succeed after all." The friendly smile on his face takes on a sharp edge, one that tells Kallias to tread carefully with whatever he says next.

"Looks like." Kallias simply says.

Anwir just sighs mockingly.

"You never were a big talker, were you? Well, here's hoping we can change that." Anwir takes an envelope out of his pocket, handing it over to Kallias. The seal, done in bloodied ice, is the official crest of the Winter Court and the cursive script on the front reads _Ranfiel_.

"Something to boost you in the eyes of your master. A favor, if you will." Anwir says, then walks away before Kallias can tell him he doesn't want any Cauldron damned favors.

Kallias debates throwing the letter away, but decides that can wait until after this meeting is done. While he doesn't like Anwir much he is smart enough not to insult him so openly.

Ranfiel gives Kallias a strange, distrustful look when he comes back to stand by his side, but says nothing about it.

It takes a few more minutes of panicked fussing before Etvor walks in.

The new High Lord radiates power, the image of frozen death. His clothes are immaculate, white cottons with leather and fur thrown in the mix, his eyes blazing with intensity.

Yet there is a vacant look in his eyes as he surveys the group of emissaries, consultants, courtiers and military personnel assembled in front of him.

"As you may have realized by now, my father is dead." He speaks in short, almost awkward sentences, his eyes never quite meeting anyone else's. "He died in his sleep earlier. I, his heir, have taken up the mantle. I thank you all for being here and for showing the concern you have." His words flow more fluidly as he speaks. Kallias never would have pegged Etvor for a nervous speaker. Perhaps it is grief.

"For now, all major schedules, projects and positions will remain the same, with a few exceptions. I have asked Lord Anwir," He nods towards where Anwir stands to his right, "to take up the position of my emissary. Furthermore, an investigation has been opened into my father's death, as everything would suggest it was not from natural causes." A murmur passes through the crowd and Etvor waits uncomfortably for it to die down.

"As of this moment I have nothing further to say," he continues, and the murmuring grows louder. But Etvor turns on his heal and leaves through the front door again, followed by Anwir and four guards.

Ranfiel is quick to make his exit, and Kallias hurries to keep up with him. They walk—although it feels more like a run at times—out of the Winter Palace and down into the streets of the city in silence. It isn't until they reach Ranfiel and Viviane's home that Kallias dares speak up.

"Sir, do you want me to…" He starts, not entirely sure if he's asking if he should stay or if he should check on Viviane. Ranfiel answers the question before he can ask it.

"Inside," He says curtly, as he opens the door and marches towards his study. Kallias hurries after him, closing the door as he does.

As soon as Kallias steps inside the study the door slams shut behind him. He has no time for surprise, however, because not a moment later Ranfiel has pushed him against the door with a knife against his throat.

"What did Anwir hand you?" Ranfiel asks in a low voice, most likely for dramatic effect, Kallias thinks, as they both know the room is soundproofed with magic.

"It's a letter. Addressed to you." Kallias says as calmly as he can manage, despite the anger and frustration building up inside him.

Ranfiel lets go of Kallias but doesn't put the knife down.

"Take it you of your pocket. Put it on the table." Ranfiel nods his head towards the desk at the back of the room.

Even though his protective instincts and his training tell him it's a bad idea, Kallias turns his back on the man pointing a knife at him to place the letter on the table.

Sure enough, the knife comes back to his throat; except this time Ranfiel is standing behind him.

"How long have you been working for Anwir?" Ranfiel asks him.

Kallias nearly laughs, but decides it's a bad idea.

"I'm not," He says, then grimaces as the knife at his throat presses tighter.

"That's hilarious. I'll ask again, and please bear in mind that I don't like hearing the same jokes twice. How long. Have you worked. For Anwir?" The last words are no more than a hiss in Kallias's ear.

"I have never and will never work for him." Kallias grits out.

Lightning fast, Kallias feels a sharp sting at his cheekbone; then the knife returns to his throat.

Rage and frustration threaten to boil over but Kallias pushes them down, he needs to keep his head as clear as he can.

"How long?" Ranfiel asks again.

"I told you…" He is interrupted by a cut on his other cheekbone.

"How. Long?"

That does it.

The powers Kallias has spent a century gaining control of, honing and calming, lash out. And while Ranfiel's mental shields are strong and sturdy, a solid wall of ice and snow, the sheer force of the strike seems to physically knock him back and slacken all his muscles, as if his mind is suddenly overwhelmed by the attack.

It's all the distraction Kallias needs to push Ranfiel's hand away and face him as he slowly backs towards the door.

"I told you, I don't. And I never would."

"Well, that's a very convincing argument. I'm supposed to believe that a _daemati_ inching his way towards a powerful position in the military—" of course his powers would come back to bite him, "is in no way connected to the emissary who just happens to employ three of his brothers? Especially when said emissary seems rather fond of you." Ranfiel's eyes are narrowed in suspicion, his teeth exposed in an open snarl.

"What my brothers do is up to them. And Anwir's _fondness_ ," Kallias nearly spits out the word, "is not mutual."

"It would sure seem like it, with the way…" Kallias doesn't let him finish; he is done taking this, done listening to this.

"You must be out of your _mind_ if you think I would ever work for Anwir, with the way he treats your daughter. You know, I don't think I realized until now how little you must think of me, if you think I could be her friend and at the same time support—"

"What do you mean, the way he treats Viviane?" Ranfiel interrupts—and Kallias might have ignored him, if it weren't for the sudden dread in his eyes, the sudden hollowness in his voice.

His stomach plummets and he falls silent. He knows Ranfiel can see the realization, the hesitation in his eyes. Just as he can see the bewilderment in Ranfiel's eyes as he shakes his head.

"That's not for me to tell." Kallias says in a low voice.

"Kallias, if my daughter is in danger and you don't tell me this second—" Ranfiel's voice is no more than a whisper but the white-knuckled grip he has on his desk tells just how much restraint he is using.

"Viviane can take care of herself," Kallias simply says, determined not to break his friend's trust.

"So help me Cauldron, I will have you removed from service if you don't—"

"Go ahead." Kallias interrupts the tirade that he can tell is about to begin. "I don't care. It still doesn't change the fact that this isn't for me to tell. If you want to know what is going on in your daughter's life, maybe you should ask her yourself." Kallias lets himself out of the office and marches towards the door. He doesn't let himself think about the fact that he may just have thrown away his only protection in the city, nor the fact that Viviane will most likely be furious at him for letting her father know about Anwir.

His focus is entirely on getting out of the house before his powers explode.

***

_Viviane_

Viviane is almost disappointed when her shift is cut short.

But one thing she isn't is surprised. It has become almost common knowledge that the female city-squadron is only for show. A place noble born females can be cooped up so that they families can proudly declare that they are serving in the army while still not taking them out of sight from the noble males who wish to court them.

It makes her sick that no one even considers putting them on duty when there's a chance of trouble; no, the moment something might go sideways the females are suddenly dismissed and the city guard, along with the male squadrons in the city (males who have proven themselves _useless_ at any other post, oh it makes her _furious_ ) pull double or triple duty.

She makes her way back towards the house, trying not to sulk, failing by the looks of it.

She doesn't expect anyone to be back, since her father is probably still at the Palace with Kallias—a development she finds herself happy about, despite her mood.

It's about time her father started trusting Kallias.

She turns the corner to her street and runs into… Kallias.

His eyes are wild, his coat is ripped and his face…

"Cauldron, Kallias! What happened?" She reaches a hand up to touch the cut on one of his cheekbones, withdraws it when she notices his slight flinch.

"V, it's not…" He rakes a hand through his hair and blows out an exasperated breath. "It's not bad. I'm alright. But right now I'm very angry and not entirely in control and I need to be alone, alright? The last thing I want is to take this out on you. And I think your father… your father probably wants to talk to you," He looks guiltily into her eyes. "I'm sorry,"

"No, if you need to be alone then that's what you have to do. Don't apologize." She reaches for his hand and squeezes it lightly, while pushing everything else he said out of her mind. She'll deal with that later.

He seems to relax a little, at her words or her gesture, Viviane isn't quite sure. "Let me know when you want to talk, Kal," She says pointedly, and is relieved to see the small smile on his face when she does. He nods and squeezes her hand back before turning to leave.

Viviane watches him go for a moment before turning back towards her house.

She may have promised Kallias to leave him alone for the time being, but that doesn't mean she can't at least try to find out what happened to him.

She doesn't waste time taking off her boots or armor when she gets inside, but instead heads straight for her father's study.

Her father is sitting at his desk, seemingly deep in thought, when she enters.

"Father, do you know what's going on? I just ran into…" Viviane trails off when she sees the state her father is in.

And when she sees the bloodied knife laying on the floor.

Luana and her father have sometimes mentioned a killing calm—something that, during the war, they or someone else would experience when in the middle of battle. A state in which everything became sharper and clearer, and they in return became deadlier.

Viviane has never understood what that means.

But what she feels at that sight comes pretty close.

"Father, care to explain why you attacked my best friend?" Viviane says in a low voice, not daring take her eyes off the knife. Something has her convinced that if she looks at him now she will snap.

"I was trying to find out if he was working for Anwir." That catches her attention and she looks up at her father's face to see it guarded, calculating.

"He would _never_ …" She hisses, but her father cuts her off.

"Yes, that's what he said. But he also mentioned something else. Viviane, what did he mean by 'the way Anwir treats you'?" His calm exterior cracks for a moment and Viviane can see the worry, the devastation in his eyes.

If anything it only makes her angry.

"No. Oh no you don't get to turn this around right now. You don't get to turn this into 'Viviane, I'm so worried about you' when you have just _cut up my best friend's face_. How could you possibly think Kallias was working for _Anwir_ , of all people? You didn't have to know anything about Anwir's 'treatment' of me to know that I can't stand him, and you certainly ought to know me better than to think I would _ever_ be friends with someone who…"

"I never suggested that you knew about it, Viviane, it just seemed pretty likely that…" Her father tries to protest, but she cuts him off.

"That what? That Kallias and Anwir were secretly best buddies and I'd never noticed? Is that how stupid you think I am? Does your prejudiced judgment of a male you have spent a total of five hours with count for more than my century's worth of getting to know him?"

"Viviane, I realize that I was wrong but you have to understand…"

"You know, the _sensible_ thing to do would have been to ask me! You could have tried talking to me before you attacked him!"

They both stand in silence after that last outburst. Her father looks at her, his jaw and fists clenched. Viviane mirrors his position.

Then her father looks away, his muscles loosening up as he sighs.

"You're right." He finally says.

Viviane can only blink. She doesn't recall her father ever admitting to being wrong before.

"I've been… harsh in my judgment of him. And I should probably apologize for that." He looks at Viviane, with that same apology written in his eyes.

"You should say that to him then." Viviane answers.

Her father nods slowly.

"But I owe you an apology as well. I'm sorry I doubted you. I should know by now you are an excellent judge of character." He stands up and rounds the desk only to lean back on it. "Viviane… I know I haven't quite earned it with how I've acted today but will you please tell your frail old father," Viviane almost snorts at the earnest expression on his face as he says that, "What Kallias meant when he mentioned Anwir?" The joking tone has left his voice as he finishes.

Viviane can't quite look him in the eye as she talks.

"I…" She tries but nothing comes out so she closes her mouth again.

_It's only going to make him worry!_

He's already worrying.

She takes a deep breath before starting over.

"Anwir… for some time now he's been asking me… asking me to marry him." She notes the way her father stiffens as she says it and immediately wishes she hadn't.

Her father remains silent for a long while and Viviane can't help but think how Kallias had the same reaction. How she can't really take having to explain herself, her reactions, to another male in her life.

"Viviane…" He starts.

"Don't. Just don't." Viviane holds out a hand and shakes her head. "I can't have this conversation right now."

"Viviane…" Disbelief colors his voice.

"Please. Father. I can't." She looks at him pleadingly and sees some sort of acceptance come over him—not quite understanding, but a start towards it.

Viviane breathes a quiet sigh of relief.

"I'm going to go find Kallias." She says in an attempt to cover up the sudden lump of tears she finds in her throat. Her father looks confused. "So you can apologize." Viviane smiles a little.

"Ah," He replies rather sheepishly.

Viviane walks back out of the study, feeling rather light headed after the emotional roller coaster she's just been on.

Maybe she ought to sit down for a moment.

She sits by the table in the kitchen with a glass of water, trying to focus on where she'll find Kallias instead of her sudden emotional drain.

***

_Kallias_

Viviane finds him about three hours after he comes there himself.

He's not really proud of what she must be seeing.

Still, she crosses the wards to see him seated against the trunk of a tree, the ice and frost covered ground reflecting whatever light the moon provides, enough for him to see the kindness in her eyes.

"How are you holding up?" She asks him, sitting down by his side.

"I've been better. Actually I'm kind of embarrassed." He looks at her from the corner of his eye but quickly looks back down at his hands, color blooming on his cheeks. "I could probably have handled that better. I'm sorry I told him about the proposal, V. That wasn't for me to tell," He continues.

Viviane reaches out a hand to clasp it around his. He grips her fingers gratefully.

"And you? How are you doing?" He asks her, finding the courage to look at her. It's something about he always feels during their interactions; if she asks him something he has trouble looking at her while he talks, and finds it much easier to look away. When he asks her questions he can't look away from her face, afraid that if he so much as blinks he'll miss some important emotion as it crosses her features, never to be seen again.

Viviane smiles a little bit at his question and looks at him.

"I suppose I'm alright, just shaken mostly." She reaches to graze her fingers across the cut on his cheekbone. "You should have someone take a look at that." She says gently.

"Yeah. Probably." He looks into her eyes as he says it, sees the small frown that forms there when she looks his injuries over.

"Oh, this is no good. Now I'm just angry all over again." Viviane mutters as she drops her hand from his face.

Kallias can't help a smile.

"Worst thing is my father already admitted that he's in the wrong so now being angry at him is sort of a dick move."

That takes Kallias by surprise.

"I… your father doesn't seem like the type to admit to making mistakes." He says, then feels embarrassed all over for making those sort of assumptions about a man he doesn't really know.

"He doesn't do it much, unless Luana and I have something to do with it." Viviane smiles slightly at the mention of her sister, and a wistful look crosses her eyes.

"You could send her a letter, you know," Kallias replies, guessing the turn her mind has taken.

"It's been a while since I talked to her. Don't get me wrong, I like talking to you, but there are things I can only discuss with a female." Viviane leans her head on his shoulder and Kallias brings his arm around her.

"Like what? I bet I can be as much of a female as your sister." He attempts to tease her to bring the conversation back to something lighter.

"Like our cycles. And… males. Things like that." Viviane says rather awkwardly.

Kallias gasps.

"Males? Oh no, V. Here I stood—or, well, sat—in the belief that you were an innocent little snowflake. Are you telling me these are the kinds of things you're thinking about?" He quickly turns his head away as he feels a magical snowball hurtle towards his face. It lands on the back of his neck instead.

"Shut up. You know I'm no 'innocent little snowflake'," she says the last in a slightly deeper tone, mocking his voice.

Kallias just laughs and squeezes her shoulder in what could well have been an awkward hug but somehow isn't.

"I know," Kallias says, the sadness that comes with the truth of those words slowly settling over him.

Something that is nothing but hypocrisy on his part. She's not his, and she's allowed to do whatever she wants.

They sit in silence for a while, both lost in their own thoughts. Kallias has almost forgotten where they are when Viviane speaks up again.

"We should probably head back." She says and stands up to offer him a hand. He takes it and quickly lets go once he stands up.

"I need to check on my mother. She's probably worried about me by now." He thinks guiltily to his mother, whom he should have contacted by now. Although seeing him like this probably wouldn't do her any good.

"Do you have time to stop by my place? I pestered my father pretty hard about apologizing and I don't want him to forget," Viviane responds in an almost lighthearted tone.

Kallias sighs in mocking resignation.

"Alright then. If you insist. But only for you, V," He says, sobering up towards the end of the sentence.

Viviane gives him a bright smile that makes his heart jump into his throat.

"Come on then."

***

"It appears I owe you an apology." Ranfiel's tone is stiff and formal when Kallias has closed the door behind him.

Kallias says nothing.

Ranfiel scrunches up his face in an expression that is eerily similar to Viviane's and then continues.

"I am sorry for making assumptions about your loyalties. Some of those assumptions were based largely on my own prejudice towards you." That takes Kallias a little bit by surprise. He might have expected an apology for earlier, but nothing beyond that. If anything it makes him respect Ranfiel even more.

"Might I ask what those prejudices were based on?" Kallias asks cautiously.

Ranfiel gives him a weary look.

"I didn't like your father." He says bluntly, staring at Kallias as if daring him to come to Havier's defense.

"I didn't like Havier much either, if that's a comfort to you sir." Kallias says cautiously.

"It's not. He was disliked by many and not always for the right reasons." Ranfiel says, and Kallias swears he almost sees a smile on his face. It's enough for him to brave his next words.

"What would have been the right reasons, sir?"

Ranfiel gives him a calculating look, the distrust still lingering in his eyes.

"Tell me yours and I'll consider telling mine." He says.

It's a straightforward enough question that Kallias doesn't even consider lying or covering up the truth.

"I didn't like the way he treated my mother," he says, and sees some small spark of surprise light up Ranfiel's eyes. "Or me, for that matter. But mostly just…" He trails off, trying to find the words to explain it without making himself too vulnerable. This is something he's never told anyone except Viviane. "He didn't respect her." He finally says, and leaves it at that.

"I see," Ranfiel says after a short silence, then looks down at the desk in front of him.

It isn't until then that Kallias realizes the envelope Anwir gave him has been opened. Ranfiel picks it up to make sure he can see it.

"This is an invitation to join High Lord Etvor's council." He says at last, looking up at Kallias as he does.

That is surprising, to say the least. From the way Anwir was acting, Kallias's best guess would have been a death sentence.

His confusion must show, because Ranfiel nods as he pulls the letter from the envelope.

"I figured he'd try to keep me close, somewhere he could keep an eye on me. And it seems our esteemed emissary must think quite highly of you as well, since your presence is requested." Ranfiel nearly throws the papers down on the desk, facing Kallias. An invitation to read them over.

_Captain Ranfiel,_

_Though I must give my condolences for the death of your friend, High Lord Gatvin, it is most imperative that our neighbors not see weakness in our manner. It is therefore that I must ask you to cut your grief short to ensure a smooth transition of power._

_A new leadership calls for new direction, and it is the High Lord Etvor's personal request that you be made member of his honorary council. He has further requested you bring your understudy to these council meetings, as he has shown great promise in service and should be made acquainted with the leadership of our Court._

_I look forward to seeing you at council meetings._

_Regards,_

_Anwir, Emissary to Foreign Courts, First Hand of the High Lord._

"I knew Anwir had the new High Lord in his pocket but I didn't know his pockets went this deep," Kallias mutters as he finishes reading the letter.

"Anwir has always been a snake." Ranfiel replies. Kallias glances quickly towards him.

"I take it you're no longer concerned that I might be working for him, sir?" He asks in concern.

Ranfiel gives him a long look, although it's not the kind that makes Kallias feel as if though the older male might kill him—rather it's something that makes Kallias feel as if Ranfiel can see right through him, into his very soul.

He reinforces his mental shields, just to be safe.

"No, I don't believe you would," Ranfiel says at last.

"Was it…" Kallias hesitates, "Was it something Viviane said, sir?" He asks.

"Not entirely. She told me about Anwir's proposal, after that I figured you wouldn't work for someone who has his eye on my daughter." Ranfiel pauses and looks into Kallias's eyes. "Not when you're in love with her yourself."

For a moment everything seems to freeze—Kallias's breath, his brain, his heart, everything stops for a split second.

"Is it that obvious?" He manages to choke out around the lump of ice in his throat, even though the world doesn't seem to want to go at normal speeds, moving too slow even as his mind can't seem to keep up.

Ranfiel almost seems amused by his embarrassment.

"I could have spotted it from a mile away, boy."


	10. 294 Years Before the Mountain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was beta read by goldbooksblack, who may or may not have screamed at me for what I am about to inflict on you.

_Viviane_

"They'll have to send some reinforcements, won't they? If there's a war breaking out…"

"It's not a war. It's a scuffle, at most," her father cuts her off.

Viviane wants to roll her eyes but knows it won't help her argument in the slightest.

"But it's tension on our borders. They've got to know there's no way we can leave this unchecked…" She tries again.

"As of yet, there's nothing to check. Viviane, why do you insist on bringing this up?" Her father looks at her with an exasperated look on his face, something that is probably meant to make her feel guilty for asking him questions he's honor-bound not to answer.

"Because if the court anticipates an attack they'll have to reinforce the border, which means sending more troops there. I could volunteer to go to one of the border cities, see if that helps things along," She can't help but hope that he will at least appreciate her willingness to fight for her court.

He does look taken aback by that, although she can tell she hasn't made much headway.

"Viviane, you know I'm not allowed to talk about any of this. And what I can tell you is that even if troops are being moved, I wouldn't have much say in who or where."

Viviane tries not to let the sting of disappointment show on her face. She gives her father a smile, one that she can tell isn't very convincing, before leaving for her shift.

All through Sciamos's sullenness, and Iskelle's chatting, Viviane can't seem to focus. Not that there's much need. The most dangerous thing that has ever happened on their shift was Iskelle dropping her fork on her toe when she snuck in a lunch break.

She knows there's not much chance of her being transferred—especially when Sciamos seems determined to make sure she never is. She knows that even if she got a transfer, she would have little chance to rise through the ranks. And she knows no leader in their right mind would think highly of her skills or training—neither of which have been in the best of upkeep for the past two decades.

But that's not going to stop her from trying; from seizing her chance, when it comes.

She _will_ make it.

***

_Kallias_

After a decade of High Lord Etvor's council, one would think the court could at least pretend civility.

And yet, as Kallias looks from one end of the table to the other, he has difficulty suppressing a sigh.

At the head of the table sits High Lord Etvor, on a throne carved out of a single block of ice. To his left is his brother Hortis, and to his right is Anwir, currently standing so that he can better observe the rest of the table. From there on, an assembly of nobles, foreign emissaries, representatives of various councils and army personnel stretches towards the other end of the table, where Kallias is seated. Standing around the room, near the walls and at all entrances, are the High Lord's personal guard. Their eyes dart around the room, hands straying towards the swords at their sides every time the room becomes too tense.

Or rather, their hands leave their swords on the few occasions the council members don't seem too inclined to kill one another. The tension in the air is usually so thick Kallias can taste it.

Sitting almost pressed up against a respected merchant on one side and Ranfiel on the other, he tries his best to sink into his seat and ignore the hostile glares between the two.

"You will forgive me, Master Ifervi," General Uikin booms from down the table, speaking the Master of Coin's title with clear distain, "if I don't see the gain in reducing taxes on useless luxuries while increasing taxes on food." The general throws down his stack of papers; the tax reforms everyone was given a copy of during yesterday's meeting.

"The objective is to ease the flow of the economy while still maintaining the coffers of the Court, General." Ifervi snipes back.

"All you're doing is shifting the weight from those who can easily carry it to the common people." Says Terahn, a young courtier. He is one of the few people in the room who has any lesser faerie blood in his veins. Kallias isn't quite sure why he is allowed to attend, but rumor has it he will soon become the High Lord's secondary consort—a nicer way of saying he is the High Lord's whore. "No one buys imported silk unless they have enough money to pay whatever price is put on it. But the poor will starve if you increase the tax on food items. Do you have any idea how many people rely on potatoes from Autumn to survive?"

That seems to be enough to set off the usual arguing of the council. The merchant on Kallias's left starts hurling insults towards Terahn. Ranfiel seems to be on the verge of throwing himself across the table. The foreign emissaries in the room all gesture passionately as they make their arguments.

Only a handful of people remain seated; Kallias, along with the three other lieutenants allowed to attend the council meetings. Each of them seems too spooked to say anything. Kiris, the Master of Healing, has been reading the entire time and does not look up from his book.

And on his throne the High Lord leans to his right, towards the vile male seated there.

Anwir whispers something to Etvor, who nods his head and throws his hand out over the table. Immediately, everyone falls silent, though evidently not by choice; Kallias can feel the enchantment upon his own throat, muffling even the sound of his breath.

"I can see that this is something you all feel passionately about. But we are civilized males," Kallias can see the emissaries from Dawn and Summer, the only two females in the room, exchange a tired look at that, "so why don't we try to behave as such?"

Kallias leans forward a little bit, just as the enchantment is lifted.

"If I may?" He asks both the High Lord and Captain Ranfiel; as his commanding officer, Ranfiel must give him permission to speak.

Ranfiel nods towards him, and the High Lord gives a gesture that Kallias can only assume means he should carry on.

"Master Ifervi mentioned earlier that this was meant to maintain the coffers of the Court, but if everything is taken into consideration, with these reforms the Court would in fact lose money." He slides forward the papers on top of his report. He hasn't always been the best with numbers, but this was a feeling he couldn't shake. He went through it, over and over again, staying up until the late hours of the night. In the end he was convinced that this reform was, in fact, flawed. That while silk and satin might not be bought by many, the tax that currently lay on such materials brought in more money than the four biggest imported foods combined.

The emissary of Day cranes his neck to look towards the document Kallias has before turning towards the High Lord.

"Yes, go ahead," The High Lord waves his hand impatiently, already anticipating what the emissary is about to ask.

The emissary extends his hand and Kallias's papers fly toward him. He takes a long look at them before each person seated at the table is provided with a copy.

Kallias glances quickly towards Captain Ranfiel. The Captain looks up from the numbers to nod once, in what might well be interpreted as agreement. Kallias recognizes it, after working with the male for two decades, as approval.

"Well, It seems the Lieutenant has made my point for me," General Uikin says, drawing Kallias's eye. "This reform is absolute horse shit, and I suggest the Master of Coin shove it right back where he pulled it out—" Ifervi stands up, ready to attack the General.

The High Lord, once more, has to force everyone to settle. He looks up at the clock on the wall.

"It seems we will not have the time to finish this today, as I had hoped. We will have to reconvene next week, when I return from my official visit to Autumn." He stands up and everyone else follows suit.

The High Lord turns and stalks from the room, his entourage close behind him.

Kallias gathers up his papers and places them in his satchel.

"I hadn't realized you were so good with numbers, Kallias." A conversational voice says from behind him.

"I suppose I'm full of surprises." Kallias replies curtly as he turns to face the male blocking his way from the table. The High Lord's First Hand. Anwir.

Anwir raises an amused eyebrow.

"Has anyone ever told you that you should pick your battles?" The Emissary says. The look in his eyes suggests he is about to.

Kallias thinks of Terahn's words. The new tax would fall heavily on the poorer people of Winter—the workers, the miners, the farmers. He thinks of the Fae and lesser faeries he worked with in the mines, even though it was only for a few months. He thinks of the people who worked on Havier's estate.

He thinks of his mother. While he will always make sure she has enough to eat, if he were out of the picture…

"I'm picking this one. If you'll excuse me." He gestures towards the front door, where Ranfiel is waiting impatiently for him to catch up.

"What did he want?" Ranfiel asks in a low voice once they are out of earshot. Not that it matters—they both know Anwir has eyes and ears everywhere in the Palace.

"To tell me I should pick my battles." Kallias responds drily.

"I suppose he wants it to go through then?"

"So it would seem."

Ranfiel's brow furrows.

Walking back through the city isn't the first time Kallias wonders why Etvor asked for him specifically to join the council. Of course, the best guess until now has been that it was Anwir's request. But that, again, leads to the question of why.

Up to this point, Kallias thought perhaps it was in some hope of winning him over, gaining either alliance or allegiance. It has also occurred to him that Anwir might have wanted to keep an eye on him.

Something that would explain his asking for Ranfiel as well.

And if that's true, speaking out against an issue he clearly cared about might have been a mistake.

Of course, speaking at all during a council session was a risk, but it was one he decided to take.

Ranfiel remains quiet until they enter his study and Kallias has closed the door behind him.

"Why does he want these reforms?" He pulls the papers back out of his inner pocket and sets them down on his desk.

Kallias shrugs.

"It's hard to say. I don't see what he would gain from it."

"He must. If he's willing to warn you away from it."

Kallias hesitates a moment before answering.

"I… might know someone who could help figure it out."

***

Most of his life, Kallias associated Winter with snow and ice. It wasn't until he moved to the Winter Court that he realized that the primary marker of Winter is _cold_. It might not bother him during his busy days, or when he sits in front of his mother's fire at night, a cup of steaming tea in his hand.

But out in the streets during the early hours of the morning, before there is even so much as a hint of daylight, not even his magic seems to be enough to keep him from freezing his ass off.

Despite the aurora borealis winding across the sky, the alley is steeped in darkness. The few fae who stagger along the main road don't notice him, either too tired or too drunk to pay attention to the lone figure leaning against the wall.

Kallias ignores them as well, instead keeping his focus on the servants' entrance of the club that closed almost half an hour ago.

He has to wait another ten minutes in the freezing cold before the door opens, long enough that he almost wishes he'd brought Rime with him. Although, the white bear would draw far more attention than he was willing to draw to himself.

A single female figure steps out, her eyes honing in on him immediately.

"Anything?" Kallias asks in a low voice.

The female gives him a sharp look before taking hold of his arm and pulling him inside.

"Keep your voice down." she hisses and pushes him into a supply closet next to the entrance.

Kallias can feel her raise wards around the cramped space and hurries to add his own. Only when the room is absolutely soundproof does Pat seem to relax.

"You need to learn to be careful, Kallias."

"I am careful."

His half sister gives him a tired look, as if she can see through his bullshit from miles away.

"Did you find anything?" Kallias asks again.

"A mess, is what I found." She lets out an exasperated sigh and leans against the door behind her.

Kallias waits impatiently for her to continue. He hasn't dared find Pat again until now, not since he first found her here five days ago.

_"Pat" Kallias's own voice had seemed to cut through the all too quiet night._

_His sister had looked up at the sound of his voice, startled. Kallias lowered his voice before continuing. He needed to be more discreet. If Pat agreed to this, he couldn't have anyone know the two of them had spoken._

_"Can we talk?"_

_Pat had looked him over, considering, before beckoning him to follow her inside the then-closed club._

_"How have you been, Kallias?" She had asked the question conversationally, but he'd seen the tension in the set of her shoulders._

_"Alright, considering. Have you heard anything from Nidanni or the twins recently?" He'd asked her in the same conversational tone, even though they'd both known he wasn't making idle talk._

_His sister had turned to him then, a tight smile on her lips._

_"No more than I have from you." There'd been a bitter edge to her voice. Kallias tried to focus on what it meant and not the barb she'd directed at him._

_She hadn't heard from them._

_"Pat, I need a favor."_

_She'd rolled her eyes at that._

_"Of course you do."_

_"I'd rather no one be able to listen in on us, is there anywhere we can go that is more private?"_

"But you found something?" Kallias presses now, trying to pry the information from her.

Pat braces her hands against the door before she continues.

"Anwir's sister-in-law is from the Autumn Court. Her family produces and exports spider-spun silk."

It would explain Anwir's pressing need to see the reforms through. But it doesn't explain why he's willing to threaten someone over them.

"Are the two of them close?" Kallias asks.

"Close enough to tangle in the sheets, if my source is to be believed." Pat replies.

Kallias startles at that. Anwir isn't known for celibacy, but his sister-in-law?

Pat glares at him. "I suppose you have no interest in how hard that information was to come by?"

"I don't doubt that it was difficult. Thank you, Pat. I owe you one."

"No, you owe me more than one. Asking me to spy on our brothers' employer is worth more than just 'one'."

"You're right. I owe you far more than that. Again, thank you."

That seems enough to appease her and they stand in silence for a long moment.

"You're going to do something stupid, aren't you?" She asks after a while.

Kallias hesitates before answering.

"Probably."

***

It's barely dawn when Kallias trudges from his home towards Viviane's—not so early that it will draw suspicion, but before the people of Winter start their day.

Yet despite his lack of sleep, despite the frustration he feels at the fruitless back and forth arguing the council has busied itself with in the High Lord's absence, he feels a surge of happiness when he runs into Viviane just inside the Fourth Wall.

"Kal," she smiles at him, but her smile fades as soon as she looks him over. "You look terrible. Did you sleep at all last night?"

"Probably an hour or so," _if that_. "It's been a busy few days." He takes a moment to assess her. Uniform, so she must be on her way to her post.

"I shouldn't keep you, you probably need to get going." He nods towards the gate with a smile, trying to keep his exhaustion out of his voice.

She sees right through him. She hesitates for a moment, a frown on her face, before looking at him intently.

"One hour after my shift today. We'll talk." She says with a meaningful look.

He reads the unsaid words. _Our place_. She means they'll meet at their pond then.

"Of course." He nods, signaling her that he understands.

Viviane gives him a small smile before turning back toward the road and disappearing through the gate at the Fourth Wall.

Ranfiel is waiting for him when he comes inside. The older male says nothing, simply nods and turns to his study. Kallias follows.

"Anwir's sister-in-law is an Autumn Fae. Her family imports silk. Apparently the two of them are… involved." Kallias tells Ranfiel as soon as the study door closes.

Ranfiel barely reacts to the information. In fact, he seems too deep in thought to even register Kallias's presence.

"Sir?"

Ranfiel looks up at him, his eyes clearing a little.

"General Uikin has been called to the Summer border. Something about his soldiers staging a mutiny. He left just after midnight and will be gone for some time." The Captain's voice is low and heavy.

Kallias balks at the idea. For soldiers to mutiny against their general? And during times of peace?

The Captain seems to read the questions in his eyes.

"General Uikin is one of the finest commanding officers in the Frozen Armies. I served under him myself for quite some time. No soldier in their right mind would start trouble with him, and the General doesn't recruit halfwits for his teams." Ranfiel is shaking by the end of his sentence and seems about ready to slam his fist on the table.

Kallias lets go of the Captain's anger for a moment to contemplate his words.

"You think the information was off?" He asks.

"Do I think someone was desperate to get Uikin out of the city and discard his council vote?" Ranfiel lets out a harsh laugh. "You just about confirmed it yourself. Anwir wants this to go through, he's not above ridding himself of a few votes against him." The Captain mutters something under his breath that sounds an awful lot like 'rotten snake.'

Kallias contemplates for a long while.

"There has to be more to it though, doesn't there? Would he really upend this entire court's economy because it will benefit a female who warms his bed?"

"Of course he's not doing this for the female, he's doing it for himself. Because he wants to and now that he's halfway there he can't stand the thought of losing."

They sit in silence once more. The distant sound of the clock towers of the city drift in through the warded windows. Seven strikes.

"Without Uikin there, the others will fold. We're going to have to fight twice as hard to make sure this doesn't go through." Kallias remarks after a while.

Ranfiel nods.

"We best get to it, lieutenant."

***

_Viviane_

The end of Viviane's shift couldn't have come sooner.

She has been anxious all day, since she ran into Kallias looking disheveled and tired. She can never stand the thought of him in bad shape, no matter how common it has become during his work with the council.

And while she knows that he's honor bound not to discuss council business with her, she also knows that out at their pond no one will know if he slips up. The two have worked together to improve the wards Luana placed for them so many decades ago, even though Kallias ends up doing most the work due to the fact that Viviane has always been awful at protective spells. Even after all these years, Luana is the only other person they've told about it.

It's their haven, their safe spot. Where he can vent about his frustration with the council and she can vent about her frustration with her father. And perhaps that isn't fair of her, to insult his commanding officer in front of him in a setting where she knows he won't object, but she has to get it out somehow. She wouldn't feel the same about the two of them if she couldn't tell Kallias anything.

Almost anything.

"If it isn't my favorite soldier," Anwir says with a smile. At once her body locks up and she wants to escape. Still, there is that part of her that doesn't really feel like a part of her that is excited, or curious, or _something_ , and wants nothing more than to get closer.

And as always, her entire being screams at her that doing so would be a terrible mistake.

"I'm actually in a bit of a hurry right now, so…" But Anwir cuts her off.

"I know things have been a little bit strained between us since that whole 'no' business," He says, and Viviane wants to scream that the tension has nothing to do with her saying no and everything to do with him asking in the first place. But she knows that angering him would be a bad idea.

And that part of her that isn't part of her seems to say _that's not true, and why did you even say no at all?_

Anwir is still speaking.

"I really want us to get along, Viviane," She wants to cower away at how he says her name, "So why don't I walk you wherever you're going and we can catch up. No funny business, I promise," Anwir smiles, and it's the smile that used to turn her insides upside down and inside out. Like her stomach is full of butterflies.

Or just like she needs to throw up.

"I'm really in a hurry and I don't think…"

"Humor me." Anwir says, and there's a finality to his tone and a glint in his eye that replaces the fear of his presence with the fear of his anger.

And always, always, that voice from outside her own self, pushing her towards the male at her side.

And just this once, _just this once_ she promises herself, she gives in to it.

And while she tries not to shrink away from his arm around her shoulder, she knows she won't see Kallias today.

***

_Kallias_

Kallias knows Viviane's shift ended almost an hour ago, so he winnows to the outer edge of the wards. That's one thing they've been trying to work on—Kallias has almost mastered placing complete wards to entrance but making exceptions to winnowing has proven more difficult than he would have anticipated.

He can't wait to speak to Viviane. The council meeting was a brutal fight, with General Uikin gone. Although he may not be able to reveal the specifics of it, he can at least let go of some of his frustration. Not to mention that more often than not her presence alone is enough to calm him.

He takes the three steps needed to cross the wards and is met with…

Red.

The pond, the trees, the stone bridge where he so often sits. And out on the ice is something, something covered in white fur stained with so much red, the source of all that red…

It's all Kallias can do not to fall to his knees as he watches one of his oldest friends bleed out on the ice.

"Rime. No, oh Mother no." Kallias stumbles forward, catching sight of the White Bear's glassy eyes.

A wave of desperation, of anger, comes over Kallias and with it his magic. Try as he might, a crack forms in his control, one that grows until his power doesn't just trickle out but flow unobstructed. The ground shakes, the trees are nearly uprooted, the ice beneath his feet splits apart as he lets go of the blast that builds up inside him.

But his friend is long gone.

The wards hold in most of his outburst, he can see; a line forms in the snow, with every tree inside it cracking and blackening as the temperature drops and drops and drops.

A new coat of hoarfrost starts forming over the old bridge, the blood soaked ground, Rime's body. Then the cold sets deeper, everything within the wards groaning and creaking as it all becomes too much.

It's too much.

With a pained yell, Kallias hurls a spear of ice towards the old bridge.

And watches the stone shatter like glass.

***

Strangely enough, the world continues—not that Kallias notices.

The High Lord returns in time for the council vote, and the debates resume the moment he walks in. Kallias doesn't join in. Every now and again he catches Ranfiel's stare but quickly looks away.

He understands the question in his commanding officer's eyes, but he doesn't have it in himself to answer.

"Gentlemen. It's time to cast our votes." Kallias looks up at Anwir's words, right into the eyes of the male standing by the wall behind Anwir, wearing his cousin's crest embroidered onto his jacket.

Nidanni.

There is an intense look in his brother's eye, one that Kallias would once have heeded as a warning.

But then, Nidanni has proven himself less than trustworthy.

Still, Kallias finds himself thinking on his brother's stare—and on the way his eyes flickered to Anwir with some meaning, before settling intently on Kallias once more.

And it is a warning, Kallias realizes. A warning from the snake at the head of the table.

There are very few people who know of his and Viviane's retreat—and even fewer who know where to find it.

But Nidanni…

Nidanni was one of the few who knew about Kallias's deep attachment to Rime; Nidanni was the one who taught him to solidify wards; Nidanni was the one who entered his mind time and time again, teaching him but also learning the signature of his magic, his power.

Nidanni knew.

Kallias is suddenly aware of how the temperature in the room has dropped, how the diplomats and army personnel alike are shifting in their seats as if preparing for a conflict. They can all feel it, the magic thrumming in the air that plunges the conference room into freezing temperatures, even though few have any idea who is behind it.

Anwir lets out a small exasperated sigh, as if the prospect of a full on brawl bores him.

"Gentlemen, let us try and be civil about this." His eyes bore into Kallias's. "We" His mouth quirks a little and Kallias feels every drop of magic freeze in his veins at the word, "wouldn't want anyone to get hurt," Anwir continues.

Kallias slowly releases his magic, letting the room slowly settle back into its normal temperature.

"Reformed tax laws on imported goods: On this date the Winter Court reforms its trade agreements with the Courts of Prythian. The taxation of imported food shall henceforth…" The High Lord continues on, listing the changes made by the new law before he pauses. "Those in favor, raise your hands," A good portion of the noble lords along with a handful of military officials. The Master of Coin raises his hand with a smug look on his face as his eyes dart around the room.

Kallias does a quick tally of the votes, then counts the remaining people. Half the Council.

He counts again, trying to make sense of the number, before his eyes catch on the empty chair.

Terahn—the High Lord's lover, the young courtier who spoke against the reforms—is missing.

"And those opposed." A couple of the remaining lords, along with most of the military personnel.

Anwir's eyes meet Kallias's, flicker to his hand. The one he hasn't raised, despite the count.

"Let it be known, that the Winter Court approves this reform, as ruled by the High Lord's Council with fifteen votes against fourteen. Two council members are absent and forfeit their votes. One neutral" Anwir's eyes dart briefly to Kallias at that last part.

Kallias doesn't let himself think of what has just happened, of the way he may well have betrayed his court.

'We _wouldn't want anyone to get hurt._ '

Because it wasn't the words themselves that stopped Kallias; more so it was the emphasis.

And the very, very strange pronunciation, the one that made _we_ sound more like _V_.

***

"You didn't raise your hand today." Ranfiel remarks once the study door is closed behind them.

Kallias says nothing—isn't sure what he can say or how much.

"The General called to the border. Terahn mysteriously ill. And you didn't raise your hand." The Captain turns to him. "What does he have on you?"

If Viviane is in danger, shouldn't Ranfiel know about it? Shouldn't Viviane herself know? It's as if his mind is numb, with room for nothing but worry and panic.

He has the sudden thought that this must be what his mother feels like when he's threatened.

No wonder she has always seemed so paranoid.

Kallias thinks back to Nidanni's face back in the council room. To the shattered stone of the old bridge. To the icy lake covered in blood.

To Anwir's threat.

_V wouldn't want anyone to get hurt._

The casual mention of Viviane—using the nickname only he calls her by—paired with the placement of Rime's corpse sends a very clear message.

"He threatened Viviane." Did he say that out loud? He isn't sure. He hasn't decided yet if he should.

A strong hand grabs his shoulder, spinning him so that he faces Ranfiel—except the room keeps spinning and he should probably sit down but Ranfiel is still holding him in place…

"What is that supposed to mean? Kallias?" The general is asking him.

"He… he threatened… when he said…" He can feel hoarfrost forming on the inner layer of his clothes, feel the cold seeping out of him, plunging the study into icy temperatures.

Some distant part of his mind notes that this is the third time in the span of two days, and that his control must be slipping. It doesn't exactly help.

"Cauldron… Kallias, snap out of it!" A sting of heat races down Kallias's shoulder where Ranfiel's hand rests, startling him and bringing him out of his trance.

Ranfiel stares at Kallias with narrowed eyes.

"We'll get back to the lack of control you just showed, soldier. Now, what do you mean, Anwir threatened my daughter?" There is tension in him, and now that Kallias isn't spiraling into panic he can feel Ranfiel strengthening every ward placed on the study.

"What he said near the end. How _V_ wouldn't want anyone to get hurt." He sees the confused look in Ranfiel's eye. "That's what I've always called her. V. But it's not just that. It's… There's this place. Out in the woods, where Viviane and I have been meeting for decades. No one knows about it except for the two of us and Luana and possibly… my brother, who works for Anwir." Kallias looks down at his feet to try and collect his thoughts. "I went there yesterday and found Rime. My white bear. He was…" He takes a shaking breath around the lump in his throat. "Dead. He was dead and there was blood everywhere and I didn't know until today at the meeting who did it but now…" He can feel his fingertips tingling with hoarfrost once more but he pushes it down, keeps it under control for once.

"It was a warning." Ranfiel finishes quietly for him. Kallias nods. Ranfiel lets him go and walks slowly over to his desk.

"So what do we do?" Kallias asks just as the general—the father of the woman he loves—sits down heavily. "There has to be something we can do. How do we…"

Ranfiel just gives him a heavy look.

"Right now we start by getting Viviane out of here. It's not going to do much but get her out of the thick of things." He says in a low voice. "You need to keep heeding Anwir's warnings for now. Does he know you love her?" He throws Kallias a sharp look.

"Probably." Kallias says after a short pause.

Ranfiel nods slowly.

"Alright, now listen to me. This is one Cauldron damned hell of a mess, but there might be a way to fix it. The root of the problem is that Anwir knows you love her.

"There is really only one solution. You need to convince him you don't care for her—and if you're going to do that, you have to convince _everyone_." He pauses. "Including her."

Kallias is silent for a moment, gathering his thoughts.

"How… how can that be the solution? It's not like she knows…"

"She knows that you care about her. She may be blind to the extent of your feelings, boy, but some part of her knows. You need to cut her off completely. And I know." Ranfiel rubs his nose with his thumb and forefinger, "It's going to break both your hearts but if that means saving her life I know you'll be willing to do it." He stands up and looks at Kallias. For a moment there is something like sorrow in his eyes. It disappears quickly as resolution takes its place.

"It might be wise for you to relocate your mother as well. And the two of us will never mention this again," He walks to the door, ready to open it and leave. He hesitates.

"Thank you for telling me, Kallias. I'm glad…" He takes a breath, "I'm glad my daughter has someone who cares so much about her."

***

_Viviane_

Viviane feels a small pang of anxiety when Sciamos calls her to his office after her shift. While he has been known to give good news, more often than not when he calls the females into his office it's to scold them for something miniscule, or make sleazy remarks towards them, or tell them that a _fine young male_ has been looking for them—that male usually being someone the female in question wants to avoid.

Viviane can think of one such male today.

There is no sign of Anwir when she steps into Sciamos's office, and her commanding officer isn't looking her up and down in ways that should get him dishonorably discharged ten times over. So that means the paper in front of him…

"Now, this is all being kept very hush at the moment, but the up-tops want to reinforce the border and for some reason," Sciamos doesn't hide the distaste or condescension on his face when he says it, "You and the rest of your unit are being moved to Itocia. So I'm telling you first because I reckon your father might have some pull," He gives her what is most likely meant to be a fatherly smile but only comes across as a grimace "and maybe he can talk some sense into those nutjobs who want to send you ladies to the border instead of keeping you here, near you homes and families. So I'll make you a deal, Viviane." He gives her a look "You talk to your father and see if he can't sort this out, and I'll see if I can't pull some better shifts for you to see that friend of yours that came here yesterday." He grins knowingly—or, his grin would be knowing if his assumption about her affection towards Anwir weren't so far off.

She wants to laugh. It is as if the Cauldron itself has dropped its blessings in her lap, giving her the exact opportunity she once dreamed of—she is being given a post closer to the action, further from Sciamos, further from Anwir, a chance to prove herself—and the only Sciamos can think of is giving her a different shift? So that she can see Anwir?

She feels a grin spread across her face. Sciamos starts to smile as well, guessing her answer. Guessing wrong.

"With all due respect, sir," she starts, and has the undeniable pleasure of seeing his face go slack with shock. "If this order is coming from up high I don't think it's my place to question it. So I suppose we'll just both have to follow the orders we're given." She gives a curt bow, barely keeps herself from doing a mocking flare as she does it, and then does something she never would have only yesterday.

She walks out without being dismissed.

Her head is soaring, there is a smile on her face as she nearly bounces back towards her home.

Her father's study door is open and Kallias is nowhere to be seen, but she supposes since she's already here she can tell her father before she tells her friend.

She bursts into the study, startling her father even though he must have heard the rustle as she came in from the street.

"I've been reassigned! I'm going to the border!" She can't keep the excited squeal inside as she jumps into her father's unprepared arms.

"They reassigned you?" He doesn't sound nearly as surprised as she would have thought—or perhaps he's just shocked.

"Itocia—not the most important city but it's something! I'm finally, finally, getting somewhere!" She pulls back abruptly—for a fleeting second she thinks she might see sadness in her father's eyes but he pushes it away.

He grabs hold of her forearms and looks her in the eye.

"I'm proud of you, snowflake," his voice is heavy with emotion and he pulls her in for another hug.

Viviane gets the feeling there's something he's not telling her.

"Just promise me you'll be careful, alright? I know, you're a soldier, you can take care of yourself…" He hurries when she starts an annoyed protest into his shoulder, "But I'll sleep easier if I know you're being careful, snowflake."

Her annoyance fades.

"I promise, father." She says and hugs him back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize that it is a dick move to disappear for 3 months and then hit you with this, but have you considered: I wanted to.


End file.
